


Kiss The Bottle

by 1_800_FRERARD



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Happy Ending, M/M, Magic Handcuffs, NSFW, Wizards, love potion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 10:37:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13657272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1_800_FRERARD/pseuds/1_800_FRERARD
Summary: A drunk wizard slips Frank a love potion while the band is in between tour dates. Chaos and mischief ensues.





	Kiss The Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> An early valentine for all my readers! I wanted to try my hand at the old 'handcuffed together for way too long' trope. I think this is the closest I will ever come to writing crack, but it still turned out pretty sweet and serious? I guess it's the only way I can write F & G. This was supposed to be a ~quick~ free write to help with writers block two summers ago. 35,000 words later and here we are. Enjoy! -H.

Gerard was tired of strangers on his tour bus.

He understood that the other guys were bored, but it was starting to seem like every show, every small town, every truck stop, they’d picked up another straggler.

They usually only lasted a couple of days. It started with Frank and those fucking hitchhikers. Then Bob helping that hardcore band just trying to make their next tour date when their van broke down. And it had just kind of… gone on like that. A different person or group of people every couple of days.

He couldn’t blame the rest of the band. He got bored, too. But between the shows, the meet-and-greets, and the odd run-ins with fans in the various parking lots they stopped for driving breaks in... Gerard had to deal with enough strangers once he was off the bus. He needed _somewhere_ to be quiet and dark and uncomplicated. And since they had another month or so of tour, that ‘somewhere’ _unfortunately_ had to be the bus.

Most nights Gerard retired to his bunk early, closed the curtain, and put in headphones. That was easiest solution he’d come up with thus far. But he wasn’t drawing nearly as much as he would’ve liked to. The cramped bunk space didn’t really allow for it. He’d tried a few times but the angle made his neck cramp.

It could be worse, he supposed. It wasn’t like anyone was bringing groupies around. That had never really been their style, and Gerard was grateful for that.

But _seriously_ , Gerard might’ve preferred groupies to the professional-wrestler-in-training Bob had brought back with him last night. True, Gerard would pay good money to see someone bench press his younger brother like that again. But the guy had left the cans he’d crushed on his head scattered all over the floor and Gerard had cut his foot on one as he stumbled out of his bunk at ass o’clock.

So Gerard and the cut on his foot were officially done with strangers on the bus. With each crushed can he threw into the crinkly, black garbage bag in his hands, he was more and more done with it. The world was definitely ending if _Gerard_ was the cleanest one on the bus. He wondered idly if he should pop his head outside to check for frogs raining into the parking lot, or a swarm of locusts. He wouldn’t have to look outside for the four horsemen, he’d hear the hooves on the pavement.  

 

It was a regular Tuesday night. Gerard had actually been contemplating calling a band meeting when he heard the familiar sound of Frank’s laugh, high-pitched and sincere, from somewhere outside of the bus. It was followed by a whoop from Bob, and a pained shriek from Ray.

At least they had the decency to do the majority of their partying off the bus. They’d convinced the driver to stop at a shitty diner with a bar a few hours ago to blow off some steam. Gerard was all for it, even if he and booze were going through a much needed divorce.

One by one they filed back onto the bus, giggling and stumbling over the remaining debris from last night’s partying. They were completely trashed. This was good, though. They’d all crash within an hour and Gerard could resume his tidying.

A man Gerard didn’t recognize stumbled onto the bus after them, donning a long black cloak with the hood pulled up. A large gold ring hung from the center of his nose, and his face was nearly covered in glitter.

 _Oh brother,_ Gerard thought, _here we go again._

“Gee, this guy is a fucking magician!” Frank explained, crashing right into Gerard and knocking the garbage bag out of his hands to give him a hug. He smelled like liquor and smokes and the frosty night air. The chill clung to his clothes.

“You _love those._ ” Frank reminded, “He’s like _Houdini._ He was just telling us how he can get out of a straight jacket while dangling from a stripper pole.”

“That’s, um, that’s _great._ ” Gerard said, smiling weakly and bending down to rescue his garbage bag.

“Hang out. Just for a little, okay?” Frank begged, squeezing Gerard’s arm.  

The others had settled in around the table and were already dealing out a deck of cards. A bottle of mysterious brown liquid sat in the middle of the table. Gerard smelled trouble. On second thought, maybe it was just whiskey.  

“Fine.” Gerard sighed, tossing the trash bag behind the seats where no one would trip over it, “ _Fine._ ”

 

It didn’t take long for Gerard to decide he hated this new guy more than the wrestler from last night. _Saporta,_ he’d said his name was. In the span of forty five minutes he’d produced numerous bouquets from his sleeves, made a dove appear on top of Mikey’s head, totally ruining his perfectly styled hair, and pulled a silver dollar from behind Frank’s ear. It was somehow even more annoying because Frank seemed to _love_ each new trick more than the last.

Frank was sitting close to the wizard. Gerard was trying not to glare from his seat across the table, but every time Frank laughed it got a little harder.

They’d greatly surpassed the sensibility required to play cards and had resorted to simply passing the bottle around, politely skipping Gerard with each rotation. Someone had lit a cigar, too. Gerard dutifully held his tongue. They were on the road again and they had to be in Cincinnati in just a few days. Gerard couldn’t, in good conscience, ask the driver to stop again for a smoke break. The bus would just have to smell like an ashtray. He’d crack a window in the morning. _Fuck it all._

“Try this.” the magician said, passing a small glass vial to Ray.

Ray pulled the cap off with a tiny _pop_ and downed the liquid. He grimaced as he set the vial down on the table.

“Oh man, what the fuck _was_ that?” Ray breathed, voice suddenly several octaves lower. He reached a hand up to grab at his throat, eyes wide.

“My voice.” he said, “ _What the hell man?_ I gotta sing backup in Ohio in two days!”

The rest of the guys started to laugh. They’d always teased him about his shrill voice. Ray Toro with a deep voice was wrong on so many levels. Even Gerard hated it.

“Relax. It’ll wear off before the sun comes up.” Saporta promised.

“What else you got in there?” Mikey asked curiously, eyeing the magician’s bag.

Saporta dug around in his black velvet satchel, humming as he fumbled around, trinkets clinking against one another. _Where_ **_the fuck_ ** _had this guy gotten his outfit, seriously?_ Gerard wondered.

 

“Protection charm...” Saporta explained, dropping a necklace in Mikey’s outstretched hand.

Saporta glanced over at Gerard, obviously assessing him in some way. Gerard didn’t like the vibes he was getting one bit.

“For you…” he said, passing Gerard a small jagged rock, “Keep it in your right pocket. It’ll help with clarity.”

He handed Bob a small pot of a salve that was apparently excellent for drummer’s wrist, which Gerard hadn’t even realized was a thing. He passed Frank another vial of something. The color was much lighter than whatever he’d handed to Ray.  

“Drink up.” the magician instructed, pouring another round of shots for the rest of them, carefully excluding Gerard as the others had done. Frank popped off the cap and clinked the vial against everyone else’s shot glasses, downing it one go. He glanced up at Gerard as he set the vial down on the table, eyes curious, and just a touch concerned. It had probably just occurred to him that they were all drinking in front of Gerard, like they’d all said they weren’t gonna do. It was fine most of the time. Gerard was a big kid, after all.

“What the fuck did I just drink?” Frank asked, wiping his mouth off and turning his attention back to the magician.

“A healing potion of sorts...” Saporta explained, “It’s slower going than the tonic I gave Ray. You’ve got that tattoo appointment coming up after your L.A. date, I was thinking it might help...”

“How did you-” Frank paused, obviously impressed, like he’d forgotten their tour dates were posted on _the fucking band website_. Jesus Frank.

“A magician never reveals his secrets.” Saporta offered cryptically, waving a hand for dramatic effect.

Gerard had had _enough._ He didn’t want to watch the rest of his bandmates make googly eyes at this wanna-be magician any longer. Houdini wouldn’t pull shit like this. He waited for a rise in conversation and made his exit, retreating to his bunk. He tuned out the sound of Frank’s giddy laugh as best he could as he pulled a pillow over his head and tried to catch some well-deserved shut-eye, forgetting all about the stone in his pocket.

~*~*~*~*

 

Being the only member of the band who’d taken an oath of sobriety had its perks. Gerard was the first one awake most mornings. He rolled out of bed around noon to find the bus wasn’t moving, which meant they were parked somewhere. He glanced through one of the windows and recognized a convenience store sign in the corner of the parking lot. The driver had stopped for gas.

The magician had disappeared at some point. It was possible he was in someone else’s bunk, Gerard supposed. But that wasn’t something he wanted to think about.

He stumbled off the bus, sliding on a pair of shades to block out the worst of the cold morning sun. He wandered over to the driver to chat for a few moments. According to him they’d reached the stretch of Pennsylvania between New York and Ohio. They were making good time. They’d hit Cleveland in an hour or so, where they’d have more than enough time to stop for lunch.

Gerard wandered off to a patch of trees on the other side of the parking lot and lit a cigarette, kicking at an empty soda can in the grass as he adjusted to the brightness of the winter sun. Even with his sunglasses on he was squinting against the light. He pulled his coat tighter around himself and numbly finished off his smoke. He popped into the convenience store for a cup of coffee, as well as some snacks for the bus driver.

Gerard hadn’t noticed the smell when he’d woken up, but climbing back onto the bus was _intense._ It reeked of liquor and cigar smoke and _dude smell_. Gerard made the rounds, opening the small windows one by one even though it was freezing outside. Mikey and Frank would complain about the cold when they woke up, but Gerard just couldn’t do it today.

He started clearing off the table in hopes of getting in some drawing before the bus started moving again. They’d apparently convinced the driver to stop for fast food at some point in the night. Cheeseburger wrappers and quasi-dried ketchup was _everywhere._

Gerard reached for the garbage bag he’d been using the night before and started filling it with the remnants of not one, but two nights of partying on the bus. The apocalypse was truly upon them if he was cleaning before he’d finished his first cup of coffee. He tossed the empty whiskey bottle into the garbage bag. It clanked against the crushed beer cans at the bottom.

“You should really make someone else do that.” Ray commented in a gruff voice as he passed Gerard in a limp towards to the bathroom, “Not your mess.”

Gerard just shrugged. Ray looked like he was too hungover for an actual explanation, so Gerard quickly returned to cleaning, reasoning that the sooner he got it over with, the sooner he could get to sketching. Under the empty fast food bags, and a few receipts with inappropriate doodles on them, Gerard found the vials from the concoctions the magician had fed Ray and Frank the night before. He inspected the bottles before trashing them. They both had small labels on them.

“ _Goblin Voice_ ” the label on the first vial read. Well, that explained _a lot._

“ _Love Potion_ ” the label on the second vial read.

The magician had told Frank it was a healing potion so _why-…_ A feeling of uncertainty curled in Gerard’s stomach. Perhaps the labels weren’t accurate? Gerard held the vial up to his nose. The remaining drops of liquid in the bottom of the vial were scentless. They both could’ve been water with food coloring in it for all he knew. But Ray’s voice _had_ changed...

Gerard dropped to his knees and checked the floor. Cigar butts, more garbage, and beer cans, but no other vials. It was possible someone else had drank the love potion, wasn’t it? Gerard had checked out early. Anything could’ve happened after he’d gone to sleep...

Giving up, he tossed the Goblin Voice potion in the garbage bag and pocketed the vial that had contained whatever the fuck Frank had swallowed in case they ended up needing it later. This definitely classified him as ‘the mom friend’ he realized, wrinkling his nose.

If he had to guess, he’d say everyone would be way too hungover for a band meeting now. Gerard would have to save his whole spiel about ‘respecting their shared space’ for another day, when everyone would actually be able to listen without holding their heads in their hands.

~*~*~*

 

They were on stage in Cincinatti a few nights later, sweaty and spent, finishing up the final chorus of the last song on the set list when Frank floated into the middle of the stage in his frantic playing. He didn’t have time to make it back over to his mic to scream along, so he leaned into Gerard to scream into _his_ mic. If Gerard hadn’t been there to prop up Frank’s deadweight, he would’ve fallen right over. Gerard wrapped an arm around his shoulders to steady him, singing into the other side of the mic.

Mouths inches apart, heart slamming in his chest, throat wrecked, Gerard stared at Frank as they sang together. Their eyes met as Ray’s guitar solo hit. Frank’s eyes were pretty and cruel and full of fire. He was so close Gerard could see the sparkling pigments in the smeared red shadow on his lids, glistening in the lights overhead. Gerard wasn’t sure who leaned in, but suddenly they were crashing together. Frank shoved his tongue in Gerard’s mouth. Gerard found himself clawing at the back of Frank’s shirt to keep him there. Frank wasn’t even really playing his guitar anymore. He let his arms hang at his sides as Gerard kissed him back. Gerard could hear the difference in the song without the crunchy distortion of Frank’s guitar. Mikey’s bassline sounded too loud without it. They needed Frank. _Gerard_ needed Frank.

This was nothing new. They’d kissed on stage plenty of times before. It was just about freaking out the homophobes thrashing around to their music. Or maybe it was just the heat of the moment, _maybe_ , something like that. It was just another casualty of the performance, like at their last show when Frank had fallen into the drum set and the neck of his guitar had gone through one of Bob’s floor toms.

But as Frank pulled away panting, backing off stage left, he gave Gerard a dark look. The kiss had been _different_ somehow. Something had changed.

In the dull roar of the crowd, Gerard thought about the empty vial of love potion he’d pocketed a few days before and the uncertainty in the pit of his stomach grew.

 

The post-show routine usually felt like it went on all night, but for once, it seemed to go by pretty quickly. The rest band set down their instruments, toweled off, downed a beer, and headed for the parking lot to go mingle with their equally-sweat-soaked fans. There was lots of hugging and deep conversations and pictures taken. Gerard escaped without signing anyone’s boobs, or making any stupid faces in pictures with fans, he hoped. He was sure his eyeliner had run all the way down to his _knees._ Stupid face or not, he probably looked like shit but it would end up on Myspace whether he liked it or not.

He still had spots in his eyes from the cameras as he stumbled back to the bus with Ray in tow. The bus was quiet and dark. Most of the cigar smell had faded though, finally.

Gerard crawled into his bunk to wait for the rest of the band to make their way back to the bus, not concerning himself with the sweat soaking into his already questionable bedding. He’d been wearing hearing protection throughout the show, but his ears were ringing anyways. He popped in his headphones to keep his mind off of the noise.

The plan was to drive the bus across town. Tonight was a well-deserved hotel night. He would try his best to remember to ask to use their laundry facility, even if he was already dreading the shower.

 

“Wake up.” Mikey hissed against Gerard’s ear, “Wakeup wakeup wakeup.”

Metal riffs were still going in his other ear and it took him a minute to ascertain why. He started to sit up, nearly avoiding smacking his head into the low ceiling above him.

“What?” he grumbled, rubbing his forehead protectively anyways. He ripped his other ear bud out and frowned at Mikey.

“We’re at the hotel. Don’t you wanna sleep in a real bed?” Mikey asked.

Gerard hadn’t meant to fall asleep. It usually took him forever to wind down after a show. Everyone else had already gotten off the bus and taken their shit with them, it appeared. Gerard stumbled out of his bunk and grabbed his bag, chasing after Mikey.  

They shuffled through the hotel parking lot, Gerard, still drowsy and out of it. There was no question that Mikey would get the shower first. Gerard wasn’t going to fight him for it. That was what Gerard liked about sharing a room with his younger brother over the others. He didn’t have to pretend he was the least bit interested.  

He dropped his bag on the edge of the bed Mikey hadn’t splayed his belongings all over and headed for the sliding glass doors to smoke a cigarette out on the balcony.

Gerard cupped his hands around his smoke to light it against the biting wind. He exhaled his first drag, staring down into the empty pool. It would be too cold to fill it up for months and months and months. He leaned against the railings, taking in the rest of the parking lot. Their tour bus sat in the shadows of a grove of trees near the edge of the parking lot. The street lights reflected off the windows. It looked small from where Gerard was standing.

He glanced over along the rest of the building. Someone was smoking on the next balcony over. A cigarette dangled from inked fingers poking out of a slightly-too-long black sleeve. A white tube of paper dangled between fingernails bitten down with nerves, black nail polish, chipped to hell from attacking the neck of a guitar. Gerard would’ve recognized that hand anywhere.

There was a wall sticking out of the building in between them to give the respective balconies their privacy. Gerard leaned over the railings a little further to smirk at Frank. Frank was completely unaware, staring off into the night.

“Frank!” Gerard called.

Frank’s hood was up, and as Gerard considered Frank again, he noticed the small wires from his headphones poking out of his hood. Frank couldn’t hear him.  

Gerard reached a hand over and tapped his arm.

Frank startled. He dropped his cigarette as he took a step back. He leaned over the railings to glare at his attacker, realized it was just Gerard, and glared even harder.

“What the fuck?” he asked, ripping out an ear bud.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Gerard amended, fighting a smile. He reached into his pocket for his pack of smokes and passed a fresh one to Frank.

Frank continued to glare at Gerard as he lit up. For someone who watched a fuckload of scary movies the motherfucker sure hated being startled.

“What’s up?” Gerard asked.

“Nothing.” Frank answered blankly.

“Who you sharing a room with?” Gerard asked.

“Toro.” he answered.

One-word-answers, still mad. Frank’s ice would melt with enough questions. Gerard knew how to pull him out of a pout, no matter the reason.

“That’s good.” Gerard nodded, taking another drag.

“Is it?” Frank asked. _Two words,_ technically. _Progress._

“Bryar snores.” Gerard answered. He could play the short-answer game.

“He does.” Frank agreed, with a small twitch of a smile, nothing happy behind it.

They were quiet for a moment, blowing smoke out into the wind, ashes from their cigarettes dwindling into the empty pool below them, mixing in with the dead leaves that had blown into the corners of the dirty white. A complete and total shithole. Some town a few miles outside of Cincinnati - which was an even bigger shithole, though a shithole with a purpose at least. This shithole had no excuses.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Frank offered. It took Gerard a moment to realize Frank was answering his initial question.

“We could… do something?” Gerard suggested, “If you want?”

“Like what?” Frank asked, more curious than critical.

“I don’t know?” Gerard said, exhaling smoke. Gerard glanced up and down the road. There was nothing but dark forest in every direction, save a gas station on the corner. There wasn’t exactly anything _to_ do. Not this late at night. Not in the middle of fucking nowhere.

“I don’t know.” Gerard said again, more certainly, dismissing the idea altogether.

“I don’t know either...” Frank sighed.

By the look on Frank’s face, Gerard wasn’t sure if they were even talking about the same thing. Frank slid his hood off. His hair was damp from a shower. His makeup was gone, too, Gerard realized.

Gerard probably looked like a nightmare in comparison, makeup smeared every which way. He could feel his hair, greasy and plastered to the side of his head from when he’d briefly fallen asleep in his bunk.

Frank crushed the remnant of his cigarette against the railings and let it fall towards the pool below. The wind carried it off into the bushes at the far end of the pool.

“Well, goodnight, I guess?” Frank said.

“Yeah. Goodnight.” Gerard nodded.

Gerard listened to the hiss of Frank opening and closing the sliding glass door as he retired to his hotel room. He remained out on the balcony for a few moments, debating on whether or not he should smoke another cigarette.

The exhaustion hit all over again. Gerard glanced at the hotel bed, considering forgoing a shower altogether. A look from Mikey convinced him otherwise. He grabbed a clean t-shirt and boxers and dragged himself into the bathroom.

After he was done with the world’s fastest shower, Gerard settled into bed. It was never easy to get comfortable in rented rooms. The mattress was always too firm or too soft, always making Gerard feel like the most ungrateful emo Goldilocks to ever get lost in the woods. He stared up at the ceiling, illuminated by the orange glow of the parking lot lights outside and tried his best to not think about how Frank was just on the other side of the wall.

 

~

 

Hypothetically a love potion had to wear off eventually right? Maybe it already had? Could their effects be transferred over? Gerard went back and forth on these things in the days that followed.

Because, Frank was acting the way he always did. Gerard couldn’t say he was acting ‘normal’ because Frank was never ‘normal.’

But sometimes he was so close to Gerard. He’d practically had an existential crisis when Frank had rested his head in Gerard’s lap for the better half of a scary movie.  
And then he’d had another one when they watched another movie and Frank sat across the room instead.

There were times where they weren’t even in the same room and Gerard still felt weird about it. He always started to get weird at this point in tour. Being on the bus in between shows was like being in purgatory, rolling down the endless freeway stretching on and on in between cities.

And for the most part Frank stayed on his side of the stage when they played live. No explosive heat-of-the-moment kissing, or touching. No _nothing._

 

But he couldn’t seem to get Frank alone to explain things, no matter what he did. It _had_ to be a coincidence of some sort. Finding time alone to oneself on tour was hard enough. Maybe it had always been hard to get Frank alone and Gerard had just never tried before.

He kept the empty love spell bottle under his pillow in his bunk as verification that the wizard Saporta had ever graced their presence at all. Every time he looked at Frank, acting all ‘normal’ and Frank-like, Gerard swallowed and wondered if maybe he’d been the one to take the potion in the first place, if he hadn’t just imagined it all entirely.

~

 

They were at some shitty afterparty in between tour dates. They’d all gone to a show together at some local dive and Mikey had used his networking magic to follow the headlining band to some party. Gerard wanted to leave _like, an hour ago_. He was smoking on the back steps of some stranger’s house, staring vacantly at the broken glass glittering in the driveway. He could hear music and laughter inside and it only served to sour his mood.

 _No one ever had fun,_ Gerard thought, _they just got too fucked up to realize they were never having fun._

He heard the back door open behind him. He didn’t bother to look. The only people he knew inside the house were his bandmates, and Gerard intended to keep it that way.

“ _There you are._ ” Frank’s familiar voice intoned, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Why?” Gerard asked.

“ _Fuck._ ” Frank laughed, “Nevermind, grumpy.”  

Gerard shrugged.

Frank sat down on the step beside him and lit a cigarette.

“I was trying to round everyone up so we could fucking leave.” Frank said, “I’m fuckin’ _beat_ , man.”

“Oh.” Gerard said, “ _Cool._ ”

“You weren’t answering your phone.” Frank said, “Is everything cool?”

Gerard patted at the empty pockets of his jeans, then his jacket pockets, then the pocket on the front of his hoodie.

“Must’ve left it on the bus...” Gerard offered.

“Not ignoring me, then?” Frank asked.

“Why would I be ignoring you?” Gerard asked, glancing over at Frank.

“I don’t know.” Frank shrugged, resting his head on Gerard’s shoulder, “Things have just felt kinda... _weird._ ”

Gerard could smell the alcohol swirling around Frank. It made his stomach turn.

“Don’t things always feel weird?” Gerard asked, swallowing hard.

“Yeah but this is like, _different weird..._ ” Frank sighed.

Gerard didn’t have an answer. Things were _definitely_ weird. He thought about mentioning the love spell then, but Frank beat him to talking.

“I don’t know, man.” Frank said, “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

 

They walked down the driveway to the front of the house together, where Ray was already waiting with Bob.

“Where’s Mikey?” Gerard asked.

“He’s comin’.” Ray said.

“Oh definitely.” Bob laughed.

Gerard frowned as he picked up on their innuendo.  

“Ew.” Gerard said, shaking his head.

“Come on.” Frank said, grabbing Gerard’s arm, “Let’s go wait on the corner. _Ray and Bob_ will call us all a cab.”

Gerard let himself be dragged. They walked with their arms laced at the elbow, shoulders practically up to their ears to fight off the cold. The grass around the sidewalk sparkled with frost. It crunched under Frank’s sneakers as he swayed.

Frank turned as soon as they’d crossed under a streetlight a few houses down.

“Whoa.” Frank said.

“What?” Gerard asked.

“You’re really pretty in this light.” Frank said, voice full of wonder.

“Sorry. I’m kind of drunk right now.” Frank laughed, stepping away and twirling around.

 

“But it’s not just right now.” Frank mused, crunching around in the grass, “It was earlier, too. And these last couple of days… I don’t know. Things are different. Do you feel it?”

“I don’t know.” Gerard shrugged.

“Things are weird, right?” Frank asked, “You said so yourself.”  

“Maybe?” Gerard said, “I don’t know. What do you mean?”

“So like, okay…” Frank said, “I’m pretty sure I could just-”

Without further warning, Frank was in Gerard’s space, pressing his lips against Gerard’s. Frank’s face was cold where it was touching Gerard’s.

Gerard blinked at Frank’s face, centimeters from his. Frank’s eyes were closed, almost angelically.

“Frank, _wait._ ” Gerard said, pulling back, “You’re under a spell.”

“You mean I’m drunk?” Frank laughed, warm booze breath tickling Gerard’s face,“That doesn’t… _matter._ I don’t care. Unless you care, but I don’t think you care...”  

“No.” Gerard said, “Well, _yes._ But no.”

Frank rolled his eyes.

“You drank a love potion.” Gerard explained, “That fucking wizard gave it to you.”

“If you don’t wanna make out you can just tell me. I’m a big kid.” Frank said, raising an eyebrow, “Don’t make it weird.”   

“No, I’m not kidding.” Gerard promised, “Once we get back to the bus I’ll show you. He said he gave you a healing potion but I think he mixed the bottles up.”

Frank was still frowning, staring at Gerard like he thought he might be lying. Gerard couldn’t blame him.

“Wait, let me get this straight…” Frank slurred, crossing his arms, “You think you saw me drink a love potion and you just… didn’t tell me? For like, _several days?_ ”

“Well, _yeah._ ” Gerard said, “I mean, I wasn’t sure if it was real or not. That guy didn’t even seem like a real magician.”

Frank let out a bright crack of laughter, but quickly went back to frowning.

“You should’ve told me. Regardless.” Frank pointed out, “Fucking friend code, dude.”  

“Well... _Yeah_.” Gerard agreed sheepishly.

“Or, you even could’ve told me like, _I don’t know, before I kissed you._ ” Frank added, “Now I just feel like a fucking… _idiot._ ”  

“I’m sorry!” Gerard said, throwing his hands up defensively, “I didn’t know what to do. I panicked, man.”

Frank narrowed his eyes at Gerard skeptically. Gerard could practically see the gears turning in his head as he worked through the new information.

“Wow. Fuck you, you fucking _sadistic_...” Frank trailed off indignantly.

He started walking back towards the party, where the others were probably still gathered out front. Gerard wasn’t going to try and stop him.

But Frank only got a few steps before he stopped all on his own and turned back towards Gerard.

“ _Holy shit._ ” Frank said, brow furrowed. He looked like he was going to puke.

“What?” Gerard asked nervously.

“I’m not even… _mad at you right now?_ ” Frank observed, blinking at Gerard, “Like, I want to be. But all I can think about is how cute it is that any magician short of Houdini isn’t good enough for you.”

“... _Cute?_ ” Gerard asked.

“Yeah. I said ‘ _cute._ ’ _Oh my God._ ” Frank huffed, and turned towards the party again, “Fuck this…”

“Wait, _you-_ ” Gerard sputtered.

”We’ve got to fix this as soon as possible.” Frank added over his shoulder, “‘I hate being in love with you already. I take back what I said about you being pretty.”

~

 

The better half of My Chemical Romance was crowded around Mikey’s laptop. It took a few variations on ‘stupid asshole motherfucker wizard Saporta’ before they were able to find anything concrete on Google. Dropping the obscenities, the band found The Wizard Saporta’s website pretty easily.

“ **_I do parties!_ ** ” a banner in the corner read.

“Who the fuck would want that motherfucker at their party?” Frank asked, arms crossed, head down.

He’d picked a seat as far from Gerard as possible. Gerard couldn’t blame him, but still ended up feeling extremely personally offended that Frank wouldn’t even _look_ at him.

Gerard was holding the empty love potion bottle in his hand. After it had been passed around the bus for each band member’s personal inspection, it had ended up back in Gerard’s hands for some reason, and now he didn’t know what to do with it.

“Let’s just… call him I guess?” Ray suggested, typing in the phone number at the bottom of the webpage, “It can’t hurt, right?”

Ray put his phone on speaker as it started to go through the rings.

“Take that shit off speaker.” Bob demanded, “I’m not having that motherfucker curse me, too!”

Frank snorted.

Ray frowned, but made no motion to take the phone off of speaker.

“I don’t think you can curse someone over th-” Mikey started.

“ _Fuck this._ ” Bob announced, heading for the bathroom door, “Let me know when it’s safe to come back in here.”

“Hello?” a voice came through the phone, right as the door slammed shut.  

“Is this… the Wizard Saporta?” Ray asked.

“Depends. Who’s asking?” the Wizard said.

“This is, uh, Ray, from My Chemical Romance?” Ray offered.

“Oh! Hey buddy! What’s up?” the Wizard Saporta said, tone shifting to something more positive than suspicious.

“We have, um, a situation on our hands…” Ray explained awkwardly, “Was wondering if maybe you could help us out?”

“Anything for the lead guitarist.” the wizard promised.

“Well, okay, so…” Ray faltered, “Basically… we think you might’ve accidentally given Frank a love spell?”

Frank muttered something acidic and unintelligible that Gerard didn’t quite catch.

“Is _that_ where my love potion went!?” The Wizard Saporta exclaimed, “I’ve been looking everywhere for it!”

“Uh. Yes. I think so.” Ray informed, “ _We_ think so, I mean.”

Frank rolled his eyes.  

“ _Damn_.” the Wizard Saporta sighed, “Thought I’d left it at a bus stop or something. Thanks for letting me kn-”

“Well, wait, how do we… _fix this?_ ” Ray interrupted, “Frank can’t stay like this.”

The wizard was quiet for a moment. Definitely not a good sign.

“Well, here’s the thing… He’s gonna have to.” The Wizard Saporta informed, “I don’t have an antidote. He’ll just have to wait for it to wear off.”

“There’s nothing else we can do?” Ray asked.

“I’ll kill you, Gabe.” Frank informed, leaning towards the phone, “ _Slowly. Painfully. Miserably._ ”

“I didn’t realize this was a conference call!” The Wizard said cheerily, “Hi Frank.”

“ _Oh my fucking God._ ” Frank muttered, twisting his head to crack his neck. Gerard was officially scared. Frank was _scary mad._

“You should be grateful, Frankie.” The Wizard said, “‘Do you have any idea how hard it is to come by a good Love Spell these days? One of the main components of the brew is _human teeth_ and let me tell you, buddy, those aren’t cheap. I should be sending you a bill, my friend.”

“Frank’s a _vegan._ ” Gerard informed gravely.

“I drank human teeth?” Frank asked worriedly, reaching for his own throat.

“ _Pulverized_ human teeth.” the wizard corrected, “Hi Gerard! Wow! Is the whole band there? Hey Mikeyway!”

“So let me get this straight: There’s basically nothing you can do for us?” Ray asked.

“Nope!” The Wizard answered, “Who’d Frank fall for anyways? Must be bad if you guys are calling me.”

“It could be worse.” Ray offered, “It wasn’t me, and it wasn’t Bob.”

“It would’ve been whoever Frank looked at first after he drank it. So if memory serves he was sitting across from-”

Frank grabbed the phone out of Ray’s hand and hit the _end call_ button.

“Wait!” Ray said, “We didn’t ask him how long it’ll take to wear off!”

“It can’t be that long.” Frank huffed, “I’m just gonna…”

Frank got up and pushed his way out the tour bus door without another word.

Mikey, Ray and Gerard glanced at one another.

“What did you mean it _could be worse?_ ” Gerard asked, “How could it be worse? If it was happening to _you?_ ”

“I just mean we’re lucky he didn’t fall in love with Bob.” Ray shrugged, “Can you imagine that?”

“ _No_.” Gerard frowned, “No, I really don’t want to.”

“Me neither.” Mikey agreed.

“See?” Ray said, “It could be worse.”

~

 

Gerard had never considered Frank to be especially good at disappearing, but Frank had well and truly found a way. He took a line right out of Gerard’s book and stayed in his bunk, with headphones in, only coming out for a cigarette whenever the bus stopped, or when food or beer appeared in the kitchenette. The few times he came out, he avoided Gerard’s eyes, and spoke as little as possible.

Gerard wasn’t sure if he’d ever been in love, but Frank definitely didn’t seem like he was in love with Gerard, or anyone else for that matter. As ridiculous as it may have been, Gerard was _disappointed_ . When he thought about love spells, he thought of cartoony, insatiable, wild-eyed _need_. He thought of love letters and mixtapes and single red roses.

Gerard felt cheated. Frank probably made awesome mixtapes.

Maybe love looked more like staying in the bunk on a tourbus with headphones in, avoiding everyone at all costs.  

Gerard wasn’t sure why _he_ felt so weird around the others. No one had given _him_ a love spell, after all.

None of the other members of the band had anything to say about their situation, and the silence was deafening. There had been one and only one conversation on the matter.

“Why don’t _we_ just make an antidote?” Mikey had suggested.

“Do you know black magic?” Ray asked skeptically.

“No. But it can’t be that hard.” Mikey had shrugged.

“Where are you gonna get human teeth?” Ray pointed out, setting down his xBox controller.  

“Oh. Right.” Mikey sniffed, “Nevermind.”

~

 

Historically speaking, the band had sort of figured out a way to practice on the bus in between shows. It was how they kept all their songs nice and tight. This clearly wasn’t going to be happening before the show they were due to play in a few days, and this troubled Gerard.

The vibe was off. The mood was all scrambled. Gerard could feel it.

Frank was like the rug that tied the room together, and the wizard had pulled the carpet out from under their feet.

 

He’d lost track of where they were, exactly. He’d stopped counting cities a few states ago.  The sign in the corner of the parking lot told him they’d stopped at a gas station somewhere in purgatory.

He watched the rest of his band file off the bus, waiting in the front seating area in hopes of catching Frank on his way out. He’d done a pretty good job of appearing nonchalant while he waited, too, keeping his eyes on the page of a comic book as he sat there. The bus was so quiet, Gerard had time to wonder if maybe they’d forgotten Frank in another state and failed to notice. It wasn’t like he could say it had never happened before. Usually they forgot Ray, though.

He’d read the same speech bubble 20 times before looking up. When he glanced back towards the bunks, Frank was quietly shuffling out, looking bleary eyed and disoriented.

He hesitated when he saw Gerard, but kept moving forward. Gerard thought he might walk right past him, but the sleepy punk dropped onto the bench next to him instead.

He left a good amount of space between them. Gerard couldn’t help but sigh. He wanted to go back to the part where they didn’t spend time calculating things like the distance between one another. He wanted things to go back to normal - maybe even more than Frank did.

“Hey.” Frank said.

“Hey.” Gerard said back.

“Wanna smoke?” Frank asked.

“Yeah.” Gerard said, dropping his comic book.

Frank smiled. He glanced between Gerard and the comic, quirking a curious eyebrow.

“ _What?_ ” Gerard asked.

“What page were you on?” Frank asked.

“I was…” Gerard faltered, picking the book up again, “I was just…”

“Not actually reading it?” Frank finished helpfully with a small smirk.

Gerard pursed his lips and gave a firm nod.

“You could’ve just told me you were waiting for me.” Frank said, “I might’ve gotten out of bed faster. Probably not, though.”

With that Frank was up and headed for the door. It took Gerard a few seconds of staring before he got up to follow after him.

 

It was too bright and too chilly outside. Gerard shoved his hands in his pockets as they wandered past the gas pumps with unlit cigarettes dangling from their lips.

Ray was unreasonably afraid of the consequences of smoking next to gas pumps. The rest of the band tried their best to respect his fear, whenever they remembered. This was one of the mornings they remembered. Gerard was impressed. He hadn’t even _thought_ of making coffee yet and here he was, already being conscientious of Ray.

There was a grouping of trees behind the convenience mart. They found a spot out of the breeze, between the branches of an evergreen tree and a dumpster.

Frank lit up and passed his lighter over to Gerard.

“I’m not avoiding you.” he explained on his first exhale, “I’m just… avoiding you.”

“I noticed.” Gerard said, flicking the lighter.

“Sorry. I know it’s weird.” Frank said, “It’s weird for me, too.”

“Yeah, I…” Gerard paused exhale, “I mean, it’s okay. I get it. Do you think it’s starting to wear off yet?”

“No...” Frank said, “Not even a little bit.”

When Gerard looked over, Frank was staring at him. He immediately abandoned the idea that he might know the first thing about love, because he clearly didn’t. Frank didn’t look like he was in love at all. He looked like he wanted to _die._

Wanting to die was something Gerard knew a little bit about. He would’ve recognized the look anywhere. Maybe Gerard had been in love _with_ wanting to die. If that was the case it explained a lot about how Gerard’s early twenties had gone. He owed death a single red rose and a mixtape.

“We could call the wizard again.” Gerard offered, “Ask him how long you’re gonna be avoiding me for.”

Frank just shook his head.  

“If I ever see that fucker again I’ll…” he trailed off.

“You’ll what?” Gerard asked.

Frank wasn’t paying attention anymore. He was looking somewhere behind Gerard, furrowing his brow.

Gerard turned in the direction of Frank’s gaze and found Ray running towards them, clutching his chest.

“G-Guys!” Ray said, holding up his index finger to indicate he needed a second to regain control of his lungs.

They patiently waited him out, sleepily dragging their smokes.

“ _You need to…. Come…. With me…_ ” Ray panted, weakly beckoning for them to follow the direction he’d come from, “ _The Wizard…_ ”

Frank and Gerard glanced at each other, then back at Ray. With a murderous look of determination, Frank was following their lead guitarist. It was something between curiosity and the desire to keep Frank out of jail that had Gerard following after them.

 

There was a Walmart across the street from the gas station. The three of them jaywalked across the empty lanes of traffic. Loud music was coming from the parking lot. As they got closer, Gerard realized it was coming from a black van at the far end of the parking lot. A large black tent had been erected next to the van.

“ **_The Wizard Saporta_ ** ” was printed above the entrance to the tent in gold letters.

Frank quickened his pace, flicking his cigarette onto the pavement and rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie and balling his hands into fists. _This wasn’t good._ Gerard panted as he tried to keep up with Frank. The idea he might have to stop the punk was sort of terrifying. Just because Frank was small didn’t mean he was weak.

“Frank _wait.”_ Gerard insisted.

Frank wasn’t listening. He pushed through the flaps of the tent.

Gerard and Ray hesitated for a half a second before following him inside. The sweet smell of incense and cigars overwhelmed Gerard’s senses.

“My Chemical Romance!” The Wizard Saporta said fondly, “Trouble in paradise?”

“Listen motherfucker,” Frank said angrily, “You need to fucking fix this. Fucking _now._ ”  

The Wizard smiled and turned to nod at Gerard and Ray. He was sitting behind a crystal ball. Tarot cards were arranged around the small table in the center of the tent. There were two chairs on the other side of the table.

“I already told you, Frank.” The Wizard said, smiling warmly, “There’s nothing I can do for you. It’ll wear off when it wears off. That’s magic.”

“That’s not good enough.” Frank seethed, taking another step towards The Wizard. He flinched at Frank’s advance.

“I’m sure we can work something out.” The Wizard said, holding his hands up.  

“You can’t fuck with people’s lives like this.” Frank growled, “I’ll ask you nicely one more time: Fucking fix this.”

“Technically that wasn’t a question it was a demand.” The wizard corrected, “And anyway, aren’t you gonna say ‘ _please?’_ ”  

“You’ll be saying ‘please’ in a second if you don’t fucking _do something._ ” Frank threatened.

“ _Frank._ ” Ray warned, reaching for the rhythm guitarist’s arm and squeezing.

Gerard could hear the emptiness behind it. Ray wasn’t going to do anything. Ray _couldn’t_ do anything, even if he wanted to. No one could stop Frank when he was mad like this.

“Okay. Okay.” The Wizard said, “Come sit. I can’t make it go away, but I think I might be able to help you.”

“Why _the fuck_ should I trust you?” Frank asked.

“What other options do you have, Frank?” The Wizard asked cruelly, “Take a seat.”

Frank pulled out one of the chairs around the table and dropped onto it.

“And _Gerard.”_ The Wizard said, motioning for Gerard to come forward, “ _Please._ ”

Gerard hesitated a moment before moving forward and sitting down in the other chair, beside Frank. He gave The Wizard a warning glare, because beyond this moment, he couldn’t promise he could control his rhythm guitarist. If The Wizard wanted to push it, there’d be nothing between his face and Frank’s fist.

“Thank you.” The Wizard said, “Now, Ray, if you wouldn’t mind... leaving for just a second. I need to close the circle for the magic to work.”

“Yeah. _Sure._ ” Ray offered hesitantly, “Just... call for me when you’re done?”  The tent flapped loudly as Ray pushed his way back out.

“Alright.” The Wizard said quietly, “Close your eyes... Gerard, could I have your right hand? And Frank, I need your left...”

Gerard closed his eyes and brought his hand forward. He felt The Wizards fingers hover over his own in a ghostly swift motion. He tried to keep his mind empty and open so that whatever magic The Wizard tried would work on him. He took a deep breath as he listened to The Wizard’s chants, even though he couldn’t understand the meaning behind the words. It didn’t sound like English, but it also didn’t _not_ sound like English. It sounded like some variation on… Pig Latin? That couldn’t be right.

Something stiff and tight wrapped around Gerard’s wrist. He flinched against the cold intrusion, followed by a quiet _click!_ His eyes fluttered open. Something glimmered in the dim light. Upon further inspection, Gerard realized it was the end of a pair of handcuffs around his wrist. The other end was around Frank’s wrist.

Gerard’s wrist was dragged painfully halfway across the table as Frank made a dive for The Wizard.

The Wizard must’ve been anticipating this, because he lifted a hand and blew a cloud of black powder in Frank’s face, which made him curse and swing at the empty air. It all happened so fast. One second the three of them had been sitting peacefully around the crystal ball, the next second Frank was trying to throw the crystal ball directly at The Wizard. It hit the carpet with a loud crack.

“Frank _stop!_ ” Gerard insisted.

“Ray!” Frank called, “Help! I can’t fucking _see anything!_ ”

Gerard was pulled along as Frank chased the Wizard through the back of the tent, through another set of flaps he hadn’t noticed at first, but when they were out in the daylight again, The Wizard had vanished.

Blinking away black tears, Frank circled the tent. Ray was behind them, trying to gather what the fuck had happened. He was calling after them, but Frank ignored him. Gerard was just trying to keep up for the sake of his poor wrist.

“Frank slow down, _please._ ” he tried.

“I’ll fucking kill him. I’ll slit his throat with the shards of his stupid bullshit crystal ball.” Frank was seething, “I’ll set his _fucking tent on fire._ ”

“ _Frank!_ ” Gerard panted, freezing in his tracks and pulling at the cuffs, “My fucking wrist dude! Cut it out!”

“Gerard, we have to find that fucker.” Frank said, pressing on. They’d circled the van beside the tent, but The Wizard was still nowhere in sight.  

“We _will_ .” Gerard promised, “Just fucking… _stop for a second._ Maybe we can get these things off?”

Frank growled in frustration but finally allowed himself to stop moving.

“ _Fuck._ ” Gerard sighed with relief.

“Uh… _sorry._ ” Frank said as reality started to settle in. He wiped at the black smudges around his face. His eyes were bloodshot and teary. He looked like something out of Gerard’s nightmares.

“I think you broke my fucking wrist.” Gerard laughed breathlessly, tugging at the chain between the cuffs, looking for a weak point. He could already feel where the bruises were going to form.

“Guys, what the fuck?” Ray asked, “I left for like ten fucking seconds.”

“I don’t know.” Gerard said honestly, “Here… let’s go see if they have a bathroom.” He nodded his head in the direction of the Walmart.

“Maybe I can find the key to those cuffs.” Ray said, “I’m gonna go check the tent?”

“No. Don’t go in there.” Gerard instructed, “We obviously can’t fucking trust this guy. I don’t want you to have to deal with him alone.”

“ _I’d like to get him alone._ ” Frank grumbled.

“ _Frank._ ” Gerard warned, annunciating the last syllable of his name clearly.  He started walking towards the store, bracing his wrist as he dragged Frank along. It hurt when the metal pressed into the already bruising flesh.  

“I don’t think they’re hard to break open.” Ray offered, “Maybe I can find the stuff we need to pick the lock in Walmart?”

“Walmart certainly seems to have… _everything_ , doesn’t it?” Gerard commented.

“Everything we need to _kill_ that wizard bitch.” Frank mumbled.

~

 

“Houdini would never do something like this...” Gerard commented, dabbing at Frank’s face with a damp paper towel in the Walmart bathroom. Abysmal pop music was playing from the speaker in the paneled ceiling above their heads. The lights were flickering ominously. Gerard was almost worried The Wizard would manifest again, with a _poof!,_ in one of the heavily graffitied bathroom stalls.

Frank was leaning against the sink, still looking beyond furious. He’d stopped making jokes about killing Wizards about five minutes ago, which was definitely a bad sign.

“Why _do_ you like Houdini so much?” Frank asked.

“Aside from the fact that he’s _fucking cool?_ ” Gerard asked, “...It’s funny, he was famous for being able to get out of straight jackets and handcuffs and shit. We could use his help right about now.”

Frank frowned.

“But he was an Aries like me.” Gerard added, clearing his throat, “And he died on Halloween.”

“Makes sense.” Frank commented.

“There’s definitely something special about your birthday...” Gerard agreed, “God, what the fuck is this stuff?”

“I don’t know.” Frank said, “It burns.”

“You should try flushing your eyes with water maybe?” Gerard suggested.

Frank obediently hopped off the sink and turned on the faucet, bending over the cup his hands under the water and splash it on his face. Gerard leaned closer, too, constrained by the handcuffs.

He quickly realized he didn’t know what they were going to do when either of them had to pee. He could only get his hand a few inches away from Frank’s. That could be a problem.

The black powder splashed off and diluted in the base of the white sink, making the water greyish in color as it circled the drain.

“Hand me a paper towel?” Frank requested, eyes squeezed shut, face dripping.

Gerard attempted to reach over and wave his hand against the paper towel dispenser. He wasn’t close enough. He pulled at the cuffs a little and Frank shuffled closer. He reached out again and the dispenser whirred out a scratchy paper towel. He tore it off and passed it over to Frank.

“This is going to suck.” Gerard observed.

“What?” Frank asked obliviously, tugging Gerard’s wrist as he wiped at his face. His wrist still hurt.

“The cuffs.” Gerard clarified.

“You don’t think we’ll have them on long, do you?” Frank asked worriedly.

“Hopefully not.” Gerard said comfortingly, ignoring the uncertain feeling gathering in his stomach.

“Can’t like… cops take them off?” Gerard wondered out loud.

“You are not getting me anywhere near the fucking cops.” Frank insisted, “We’ll call a locksmith if _Ray_ can’t get them off.”

As if Frank had spoke of the devil, Ray pushed his way into the bathroom with a shopping bag around his wrist.

“There you are! Mikey just called. They almost left without us.” Ray said, “We gotta get back to the bus.”

“I’d like to see My Chemical… Drum and Bass” Frank offered sarcastically, “That’d go over _real well_ with the fans…”

~

 

As if it had never happened, The Wizard Saporta’s tent and van had vanished by the time the three of them got out of the store again. The painful tether between Frank and Gerard was the only hard evidence Gerard had to work with.

As soon as they were back on the tour bus, Ray sat them down on one of the cushioned benches in the seating area and got to work trying to unlock the cuffs.

“So… how exactly did this happen?” Mikey asked curiously, pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.

Gerard glanced over at Frank, thinking their rhythm guitarist might find it cathartic to explain the situation. Frank just shrugged and looked away.

“Well…” Gerard faltered.

“We found the Wizard.” Ray explained, “He had a tent set up in the Walmart parking lot.”

“Classy.” Bob commented.

“He said he would help us.” Gerard added.

“He told me to leave so he could do a spell.” Ray went on, squinting at a thin piece of metal he then jammed into the place where the chain met Gerard’s end of the cuffs, “I’m sort of iffy on what exactly happened after that?”

“Well…” Gerard faltered again.

“These aren’t ordinary cuffs.” Ray observed, saving Gerard from having to explain.  

“What do you mean?” Mikey asked.

“There’s no… _lock?_ ” Ray tried, poking a bobby pin against the metal.

“What do you mean there’s no lock?” Frank asked, leaning in to inspect the cuffs closer.

“Like, where am I supposed to put the key? Do you see a keyhole anywhere?” Ray asked, holding up his hands in defeat.

Gerard and Frank lifted their hands so everyone could get a better look without huddling in too much.

“Definitely not ordinary cuffs...” Mikey agreed.

“Well that’s fucking great.” Frank said, “What the fuck are we supposed to do?”

“Call Brian.” Mikey and Ray said, in almost perfect unison.

~

 

It took awhile to convince Brian. Ray had to explain several times that he wasn’t high. Even after he’d passed the phone to Mikey, and then Bob, Brian still thought they were all stoned. They left out the part about the love spell and got down to the real issue at hand, or, _hands,_ rather: Their singer was handcuffed to their rhythm guitarist and they wouldn’t be able to play like that unless someone did something soon.

Brian agreed to arrange for a locksmith meet them at the next stop for gas, which meant they’d have to survive a few hours. The rest of the band had scattered to other parts of the bus, leaving Frank and Gerard to fend for themselves alone in the front seating area. Frank was still pissed. Gerard could tell because he wasn’t really talking. At some point he’d started chain smoking, and Gerard hadn’t been brave enough to tell him to stop.

The room was soon hazy with the smoke. Gerard had absorbed so much smoke and ash, he felt like an ashtray. But if it kept Frank calm, he’d just wait it out. Frank would run out of cigarettes eventually, if Gerard was patient.

Mikey had handed Gerard a sketchpad, but he’d quickly figured out that sketching with his left hand was pretty useless. His drawings were distorted and iffy. The bumpy freeway didn’t help.

Frank adjusted his position so that he was laying down on the bench next to Gerard. He kept his arm up above his head so that Gerard didn’t have to move. Gerard was sort of impressed by his maneuvering. Frank even managed to tuck a sweatshirt under his head to use as a pillow, one-handed

“Can I ask you something?” Gerard asked.

“I guess so.” Frank said hesitantly.

“The other night… when you kissed me…” Gerard started.

“Don’t bring that up.” Frank warned.

“Well, no, wait.” Gerard pressed, “Did you... actually think you liked me?”

Frank frowned and let out a deep sigh.

“...Is that so hard to believe?” Frank asked, clearly unamused.

Gerard didn’t know.

 _Yes._ It was hard to believe.

Most people Gerard met didn’t like Gerard.

“ _Yes._ ” Gerard said eventually.

Frank let out a small breath of a laugh and puffed on his cigarette.

“ _What?_ ” Gerard asked, offended.  

“The whole fucking world is in love with you, Gerard.” Frank said, “Why wouldn’t _I_ be?”

~

 

The locksmith had no fucking clue what to do about the handcuff situation.

“I’m a _locksmith._ ” The guy had said, frustrated, “And there’s no fucking _lock_ here.”

Ray had just nodded sympathetically.

The locksmith had taken every tool short of a blowtorch to the cuffs, and they weren’t even scratched. His use of the handsaw had been absolutely _terrifying._

Gerard liked his right hand. He used it for drawing, and jacking off, and washing his hair once a month. But Frank _needed_ his left hand. Without it, he wouldn’t be able to play guitar. The punk had gotten about a thousand shades paler as soon as the locksmith had pulled out the saw.

After an hour or so of trying to get the cuffs off in the cold, dark, gas station parking lot, they gave up.

“There has to be some other way to get these things off...” Gerard said, watching the locksmith drive away, “One that doesn’t involve cutting our hands off.”

“We could call The Wizard?” Ray suggested as they all filed back onto the bus.

“I need a fucking drink.” Frank informed darkly.

“One step ahead of you.” Mikey said, handing Frank a beer.

Gerard’s stomach turned.

 

It was sort of like a normal night on the bus after that. Since Frank had been smoking, everyone else decided they could also smoke on the bus.

Gerard was beyond used to this by now. And at least they hadn’t picked anyone up in the parking lot while they’d been working with the locksmith. Perhaps everyone had finally learned their fucking lesson.

Mikey, Ray and Frank had all settled into a game of Magic The Gathering. Gerard was sort of surprised Frank was willing to touch the cards at all, given how their day had gone.  Frank held his magic cards in his right hand, leaving his left parallel to Gerard’s sketchbook.

They’d decided they’d trade off using their cuffed hands in shifts. It was Gerard’s turn to use his cuffed hand to work on some sketches. He needed to redeem himself of the horrendous sketching he’d done earlier on in the day.

He drew a sprawling meadow. The air in the bus was such a toxic mix of beer and cigarettes, all Gerard wanted was to be outside in the cold, crisp air.

“Draw me a card, Gee.” Frank requested, glancing between the cards in his hand and the cards already out on the table. Gerard reached over and pulled one off the top of the deck and handed it to Frank.

Frank frowned at the the cards and then looked over at Gerard.

“More mana? Thanks for _nothing._ ” Frank laughed.

Gerard pouted. But whatever. At least Frank was smiling again.

The room got ever smokier. Gerard went back to drawing, but he had a hard time regaining his focus with the way Frank was tapping his fingers next to the sketchbook. Gerard couldn’t stop glancing at his blur of hand tattoos every couple of seconds.

At some point, Frank leaned towards him.

“Uh. I gotta pee.” Frank said guiltily sort of against Gerard’s ear. He slid his hand of magic cards into his back pocket and started to stand up. Gerard dropped his pencil and slowly got up, stiff from having remained in the same position for so long.

“Don’t bend my fucking cards.” Ray complained.

“I won’t.” Frank promised, “I just can’t have you looking at my hand, cheater.”

Ray frowned. Mikey snorted.

Frank tugged Gerard along. They all got quiet as Frank and Gerard walked away. Gerard felt like he could hear them all whispering, but maybe he was just imagining it.

 

Gerard slid the lock on the bathroom door into place behind them.

The bathroom was a tight squeeze, to say the least. It wasn’t meant for two people handcuffed together, awkwardly trying to keep a polite distance. Gerard caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. The cuffs flashed in the light.

“I’m really glad I’m not sober right now.” Frank said, pausing in front of the toilet, “I guess I’m just gonna… Here goes nothing...”

Gerard glanced over as Frank undid his belt.

“Don’t fucking look!” Frank laughed, “Look away, motherfucker!”

Gerard rolled his eyes straight up to the ceiling and tried to ignore the sound of Frank undoing his fly.

“I mean… it’s just… not gonna get less weird, right?” Frank was saying to himself, “So like…”

Gerard closed his eyes as he heard Frank start to pee. He tried to keep himself from thinking about the fact that his hand was less than five inches from Frank’s dick. This wasn’t usually what came to mind when Gerard thought about having his hand close to someone else’s dick. Far from it, actually

“How is this supposed to, like… should we _both_ wash our hands?” Frank asked, zipping his fly back up.  

“Maybe I should pee too?” Gerard suggested, “Just… you know, so we don’t have to make an extra trip later?”

“Yeah.” Frank nodded, humor touching his voice, “That makes sense. Shared piss schedule.”

Frank maneuvered around Gerard so that he could step in front of the toilet. He glanced over at Frank, who was expertly not looking at him.

“Wow… how did you do this?” Gerard asked, reaching down to unbutton his jeans. The weight of Frank’s hand dangling by his hip made him nervous.

“Drunker than you...” Frank suggested.

“Right...” Gerard sighed.

“Sorry about that, by the way.” Frank added, “It’s not… okay to be drunk around you like this. I’m a terrible friend.”  

“Nah it’s okay.” Gerard assured, focusing on the task at hand. He undid his fly and checked to make sure Frank still wasn’t looking. He wasn’t, so Gerard started to pee.

“And here I thought we were about as close as friends could get...” Frank snorted, “I feel like I’m seeing a whole new side of you.”

Gerard quickly looked over in horror. Frank looked back, startled.

“I meant metaphorically.” Frank laughed, “Pay attention to what you’re fucking doing, man. If you fucking pee on me, I _swear_ …”

Gerard couldn’t help but wonder what the others must’ve thought of Frank’s echoes of genuine, booming laughter coming from the bathroom. He’d have to stop caring so much if he was going to survive this.

He re-situated his jeans and they both moved over to the sink together. Washing their hands together was somehow weirder to Gerard than peeing together. As soon as Frank turned the faucet off, Gerard reached over and dried his hands on Frank’s shirt.

“What the fuck was that for?” Frank asked. He grabbed at the front of Gerard’s shirt for revenge. Only, he left his hands clutched in the fabric. Gerard could feel the water soaking through.

Their eyes locked. It was like someone had suddenly sucked the air out of the cramped room.

Frank was so fucking close. Gerard’s eyes flickered down to Frank’s lips, and then back up again, abandoning any hopes of concealing his curiosity. He’d been thinking about what this might be like since he’d found out about the love spell.

“Please don’t kiss me.” Frank requested weakly.

“Why?” Gerard asked.  

“I can think of a thousand good reasons...” Frank said, shaking his head.

Gerard bit his lip.

“I have some wizards to destroy…” Frank said, “We should get back out there.”

Frank reached over to unlock the door, and pulled Gerard along after him. The rest of the band had obviously been talking about the two of them, because they got quiet as the pair re-entered the room. They settled in on the bench again, across from the others. Frank pulled his cards out of his pocket and the game resumed.

Things went back to normal. But Gerard couldn’t get back into drawing. Instead, he watched the game play, sort of agitated he hadn’t agreed to play when they’d started.

He ended up sort of on Frank’s ‘team.’ It started out with him just drawing cards for Frank when it was his turn, but it quickly escalated to controlling Frank’s moves.

“No. Don’t use that card yet.” Gerard said under his breath, he leaned his head on Frank’s shoulder to get a better look at his cards.

“Why not?” Frank asked.

“Ray’s pooling mana for something big... Wait him out.” Gerard offered quietly.

“Hey… no fair.” Ray frowned.

“What?” Frank asked.

“We agreed to play against you, not you and _him._ ” Ray said, narrowing his eyes at Gerard.

“You were about to win anyways.” Gerard pointed out.

Ray dropped his cards on the table face up, revealing a powerful creature card.  

“I want a rematch.” Ray said firmly.

Mikey groaned.

“Now?” Frank asked.

“ _No._ ” Ray said, “When you’re not handcuffed to the best wizard on this fucking bus.”

Ray got up and went for another beer. He tipped the can up against his lips and started to gulp it down.

“You want another beer, Frank?” Mikey asked.

“Nah. I’m good.” Frank said, “Actually kinda… beat.”

Gerard felt himself relax a little.

“Come on.” Frank said, slowly getting up and tugging at the cuffs.

 

Going into the bathroom together the second time was way less awkward than the first. Gerard even politely avoided staring at Frank’s lips after they’d both washed their hands. He couldn’t figure out why Frank had made a point to brush his teeth until they were headed for the bunks.

He could hear the rest of their band still laughing and drinking around the table as they headed for Gerard’s bunk. They hadn’t discussed it, but they didn’t need to. Gerard’s bunk was on the bottom, and trying to navigate the ladder with handcuffs sounded complicated.

Gerard’s wrist was fucking killing him. He lowered himself onto the edge of his bunk and slowly worked his way back onto the mattress pad, making room for Frank beside him. It was hard to fit comfortably in the small space.

They settled in facing one another with their cuffed hands in between them.

“This is… claustrophobic.” Frank commented.

“It’s just for tonight.” Gerard said, “Tomorrow night’s a hotel night.”

“You think we’ll still be stuck like this tomorrow night too?” Frank asked.

“I don’t know.” Gerard said, “I hope not.”

Frank blinked at Gerard. He let out a deep, minty sigh. His cool breath hit Gerard’s face.

“My wrist fuckin hurts.” Gerard commented, nuzzling against the pillow.

“Mine too.” Frank agreed, “Don’t know how the fuck I’m supposed to play guitar like this.”

Gerard hadn’t thought about that. He could sing under any conditions, handcuffed or not. Frank, on the other hand, needed both hands to play. Gerard could maybe figure out how to move his hand in time with Frank’s playing...

“Forgot to turn off the fuckin light…” Frank grumbled.

“... **_Mikey!_ ** ” Gerard yelled.

“Fucking shit!” Frank complained, “What the fuck are you yelling for?”

“Sibling thing.” Gerard said, “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Ouch.” Frank said.

“ _What?_ ” Mikey asked, wandering over to the bunks.

“Turn off the light?” Gerard requested.

“Why should I?” Mikey asked.  

“It’s not for me.” Gerard explained, “Frank wants it off.”

“Ew...” Mikey said.

“It’s hard for both of us to get up and turn it off.” Gerard said, “All you have to do is reach over and flip the switch.”

“Yeah but I had to get up and walk over here. How is that different?” Mikey observed.

“Please just turn the fucking light off.” Frank requested in a frustrated groan.

“You both owe me.” Mikey said as he reached over and flipped the switch.

“Fine. Will you close the curtain, too?” Frank added.  

“G _ladly._ ” Mikey sighed, pulling the curtain on Gerard’s bunk closed.

“Thanks Mikey!” Gerard said.

“We really need to get you guys uncuffed.” Mikey replied, “You’re already being so gross.”

 

It was somehow more comfortable in the darkness. Frank let out a deep yawn and shifted his position a little in an attempt to get more comfortable.

“I don’t think we’re being gross.” Frank said, “I mean, it’s not my fucking fault I’m handcuffed to you. You’re the dungeon master anyway. Don’t you know how to get us free? What would you do if this was _your_ spell?”

Gerard blinked into the darkness.

“If life were like Dungeons and Dragons…” Gerard wondered aloud.

Frank snorted.  

“Well… there’s gotta be something, right?” Gerard asked.

“Right.” Frank agreed.

“Maybe we’re supposed to kiss?” Gerard suggested, feeling himself blush, “Like in Sleeping Beauty, you know?”  

“D&D to Disney is a pretty fuckin huge leap, Gee.” Frank observed, “And neither of us is magically asleep right now. We’re cuffed with _magical fucking handcuffs._ It’s a little different.”

“I know…” Gerard said, “I _know._ I just… don’t think we should rule anything out.”

“I’m not kissing you.” Frank sighed, nuzzling against the pillows.

 

“ _Why not?_ ” Gerard thought, but didn’t ask.

~

 

“Gerard _please_ get up I have to fucking pee. Oh my god.” Frank complained against Gerard’s ear.

Gerard hummed sleepily, pulling the blankets tighter around his shoulders. His wrist fucking hurt.

“Gerard please.” Frank begged.

Reality set in as Frank pushed away the dream Gerard had been having.

“Come on, man.” Frank groaned, “I promised I would never ever tickle you again. But this is _desperate._ ”

Gerard’s eyes popped open.

“Frank?” Gerard asked.

“You’re awake. Oh my _God._ ” Frank breathed.

“Yeah.” Gerard said, still blinking away the residuals of sleep.

“I have to pee. Can we _please_ go to the fucking bathroom?” Frank asked.

“Yeah. Sure.” Gerard said, voice still thick with sleep.

Frank was tugging him out of the bunk before he was totally awake. He stumbled after the rhythm guitarist, through the bus, as it bumped down the freeway. The rest of the band was already up, crowded around the TV in the seating area. The smell of coffee wafted through the bus. Gerard’s arm was tingling from the way he’d been laying on it all morning. His neck hurt, too. He wasn’t used to sleeping handcuffed to someone he was afraid to touch.

 

Gerard was sort of in and out of reality, standing next to Frank in the bathroom, gazing sleepily at their reflections in the mirror. Everything was too bright and too loud and too much. He rested his head on Frank’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

“Congratulations for successfully finding the only possible way to make this weirder.” Frank said, buttoning his jeans.

“We need to fucking fix this.” Frank said, pushing Gerard towards the sink so he could wash his hands, “You sleep so fucking late, Gee. I can’t fucking _do this._ ”

“We’ll fix this.” Gerard promised, “ _Today._ ”

“How?” Frank asked, drying his hands on his t-shirt.

“I don’t _know._ ” Gerard groaned.

Frank snorted.

“Oh, _fuck you._ ” Gerard frowned. He rolled his eyes. This wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t Frank’s fault either, but Frank wasn’t helping.  

“God… There’s nothing cute about your hair being all messed up like that...” Frank said.

“What does that have to do with _anything?_ ” Gerard scoffed, “Leave my hair alone. It’s done nothing to you.”

He reached his free hand up to tousle an unruly lock into shape.

“There’s nothing cute about you when you get all pouty and defensive like that.” Frank added, looking Gerard’s reflection over in the mirror, “Or when you sleep through most of the fucking _daylight hours…_ Fucking _vampire._ ”

Frank was trying to convince himself of these things, Gerard realized.

“You sure about that?” Gerard asked, raising an eyebrow. In spite of everything, he still had a fucking self esteem to protect.  

“It’s just the spell.” Frank said certainly.

“I think I’m pretty cute.” Gerard offered defensively.  

“Well, _I’m_ not supposed to think so, Gee.” Frank said, “Not like this. This isn’t real.”

“Seems pretty fucking real to me.” Gerard said, pulling on the cuffs. His sore wrists protested against the movement as he pulled Frank after him, out of the small bathroom, back towards the kitchenette.

“You can think I’m cute.” Gerard said, “I think you’re cute and _I’m_ not under a fucking spell. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“Well, how do you _know_ you’re not under a spell?” Frank asked, “I didn’t know I was under a spell...”

When Gerard looked up, the rest of the band was staring at them, crowded around the seating area, nursing mugs of coffee.

“Gerard did you do something different with your hair?” Bob asked.

Gerard gaped at the 3 pairs of eyes staring back at him.

“It just looks different.” Bob explained, holding his hands up.

“Seriously what the fuck is wrong with my hair?” Gerard asked worriedly, reaching up to touch a lock.

“Nothing’s wrong with your hair, Gee.” Mikey explained, “It’s the spell.”

All eyes turned to Mikey.

“What?” Mikey asked, “You guys have internet access too, you know. One of the tradeoffs of the spell is that when someone becomes more attractive to the person who drank the potion, it makes them less attractive to everybody else.”

“So I’m getting uglier?” Gerard asked, “Great.”

“You’re not uglier than usual.” Mikey shrugged, “But your hair definitely looks weird.”

“We have to fix this.” Gerard said, “And I need a hat.”

“Borrow one of Frank’s.” Ray suggested.

“Or just put up your hood.” Mikey pointed out.

Gerard tried to reach over his shoulder for his hood, but it was hard to do with one hand. He ended up yanking on the cuffs in an attempt to pull his other hand up. Frank groaned.

Bob got up to help, getting ahold of Gerard’s hood and pulling it over his head, covering his eyes.

“What the fuck.” Gerard complained, flailing his arm.

“You’re lucky a bad hair day is all you have to worry about.” Frank mumbled, bumping against Gerard as Gerard pulled his hood back.

“How are you holding up, Frankie?” Ray asked.

“I’m fuckin’ _suffering._ ” Frank said simply.

“Really thought this would’ve worn off by now.” Ray said, looking concerned, “Maybe we should call-”

“Who?” Frank asked, “Who _the fuck_ are we going to call?”

“The wizard.” Ray finished.

“No.” Frank said.

“I mean… what other choice do we have, Frank?” Ray shrugged, “You two can’t stay like this.”

“Wait…” Mikey said, “I think I have an idea.”

~

 

“How do we know this will work?” Frank asked, tugging Gerard after him, into the small, dim shop.

“We don’t.” Ray said, “But we have to try.”

The room was thick with incense. Candles were huddled around an altar in the corner.

“She’s a psychic, not a supernatural locksmith.” Frank complained.

“Is there a difference?” Mikey wondered aloud, “God, where’s my inhaler?”

“Hi!” Gerard said, perking up as a woman in long, dark robes appeared from behind a curtain.

“What do you want?” She asked.

Not the customer service Gerard had been expecting, but he recovered quickly, and beamed at her with his brightest smile.

“We were wondering if you could help us.” Ray offered helpfully

“All of you?” She asked skeptically.

“No, just these two.” Bob said, sticking his thumb in Frank and Gerard’s direction, “We’re just here for moral support.”

Mikey nudged Gerard forward. Frank dragged himself closer apprehensively.

“ _Oh…_ ” she said, eyes widening as Gerard shuffled forward a few more steps.

“If there’s anything you can do…” Gerard started to explain, “It’s just this-”

“Love spell.” She finished for him, “And a powerful one, too. Come. Sit.”

 

Frank whimpered when he saw the crystal ball sitting on the small table. It took Mikey, Bob, and Ray all wrestling him to get him to sit in the chair across the table from the psychic. Gerard just watched helplessly, trying to keep his arm slack so that Frank didn’t pull too hard.

“What’s the worst that could happen at this point?” Bob asked, holding Frank’s shoulders.

“I don’t wanna fucking find out!” Frank protested.

“They’re not all like the Wizard Saporta” Ray mumbled encouragingly to Frank, “She’s not like that, Frankie.”  

“What is it you desire, child?” The psychic asked. Silence fell over the band.

Gerard glanced across the table and saw the psychic was intently staring at Frank.

“Me?” Frank asked crossly, “I don’t _desire_ anything. I didn’t ask for _any of this._ ”

“He didn’t mean it like that.” Ray promised, slapping a twenty on the table, “Frankie’s never gotten his palm read before. He doesn’t have any _manners._ ”

The psychic glanced over at Gerard then. It was like she was looking right _through_ him. A chill ran up his spine. He felt Frank shift beside him.

“I’ll ask again…” she said, “What is it you desire?”

“I’m in love and I don’t want to be.” Frank said simply, “... _Happy?_ ”

“Of course not, dear.” the psychic frowned, holding Ray’s twenty up to the light to make sure it was real.

“So can you help us?” Ray asked.

“All spells have loopholes…” The psychic shrugged, “Find one.”

“That’s all you’ve got?” Bob asked skeptically.

“Well…” the psychic sighed, “I’ve got more love potions, if you’re willing to pay. Is there anyone you’d rather be in love with? Perhaps we could reroute the spell...”

“No more love spells.” Frank protested.

“Seconded.” Bob agreed.

“Do they really have human teeth in them?” Gerard wondered out loud, “Where do you even _get_ those?”

“Black market.” Mikey supplied.

The psychic raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t remind me...” Frank groaned.

“So can you help us or not?” Ray asked.

“What’s in it for me?” The psychic replied crossly, “Do you really think you can come into my shop with that nasty black magic and expect me to just wave it away? Everything has a price. The pathetic excuse for a wizard that cast the spell paid a great deal for it.”

“But _why?_ ” Gerard asked, “That’s what I’m still not getting.”

“I can’t help you.” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

“Well thank you anyways, you’ve been more than helpful.” Ray said.

“No she hasn’t.” Frank complained.

Ray smacked the back of his head.

“Save the comments for after we leave, dickwad.” Bob said, “You’ve got enough curses already.”

“Pardon my language.” Bob added, nodding to the lady of magic.

“Spells, not curses.” The psychic corrected.

“Like I said, we need to work on his manners.” Ray said, grabbing Frank by the back of his sweatshirt and pulling him out of his chair. Gerard was dragged along. He offered the psychic a weak smile before he was pulled out the door, by his wrist, after Frank and the rest of his band.

~

 

“Well that was fucking useless.” Mikey pointed out as they climbed back onto the bus, single file.

“No it wasn’t.” Ray said, “She said the spell has a loophole.”

“We’re not using more magic.” Bob insisted, “No more magic.”  

“ _We don’t even know how._ ” Ray pointed out crossly, “That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?” Mikey asked.

“Internet.” Ray said, “Someone probably found a loophole somewhere. There’s got to be a way. There’s always a way.”

“There’s always a Way.” Bob agreed, “That’s the problem.”

Gerard and Mikey both glared at him. It wasn’t a good time for Way jokes.

“Fine. I’ll figure it out on my own.” Ray said, pulling his own laptop open.

Mikey sat down beside Ray and watched as he typed away. Bob got in on the other side.

“There are two more laptops on this bus...” Ray pointed out.

Neither bob nor Mikey moved. The bus began to purr underneath them as the driver started the engine.  
“Come on.” Frank said, gently tugging on the cuffs, “Let’s watch TV.”

Frank turned for couch and Gerard followed. He started looking around for the remote. Beer cans, magic cards, and pizza boxes had accumulated all around the room. Gerard hadn’t done any tidying since the cuffs had been slapped on them and it was starting to show.

Frank somehow spotted the remote wedged between the cushions. They maneuvered down onto the couch, across from the seating area where the rest of the band was researching.

Frank channel-flipped in silence. Gerard glanced between him and the others, not sure what to make of it.

“Wikipedia? Seriously?” Mikey asked.

“You wanna drive?” Ray huffed, sliding the laptop towards Mikey, who took to the keyboard mercilessly.

The bus bumped as the wheels heaved over something on the road.

“Spellshelp.com.” Bob read aloud, “That seems legit.”

Ray scoffed.

“Frank do you have any pictures of you?” Mikey asked, “Like, printed?”

“Why would I have pictures of myself?” Frank asked.

“If we burn them it might break the spell.” Mikey explained.

“If he doesn’t have any we could just take a picture of him.” Bob offered.

“Photoshoot.” Mikey said, “Can I do your hair?”

“Is there something wrong with his hair, too?” Gerard asked self-consciously, looking over at Frank’s hair.

“Nope. It’s just yours.” Mikey informed, “Frank’s hair is still great.”

“Thanks Mikey.” Frank smiled.

“Remember that picture burning thing, just in case.” Ray instructed, “Let’s keep looking…”

The three went back to staring intently at the laptop screen. Frank had finally found a channel to watch. Gerard didn’t recognize the movie.

Frank sighed.

“Hey.” Gerard said quietly.

“Hey.” Frank echoed back, not tearing his eyes from the screen.

“Are you okay?” Gerard asked.

“Yeah.” Frank said. Gerard could hear the sarcasm, even if Frank hadn’t intended for him to.

“Earlier…” Gerard paused, “You said you were suffering.”

“ _Fucking_ suffering.” Frank corrected.

“Yeah.” Gerard agreed.

“Still true.” Frank shrugged.

“What would make it better?” Gerard asked.

Frank looked over at Gerard and smiled weakly. The emotion didn’t touch his eyes.

“What do you think we’re supposed to do?” Gerard went on quietly, “What does your gut say?”

“My gut?” Frank asked, “Guts can’t talk, Gee.”

“You know what I mean.” Gerard urged.

“My gut doesn’t say anything.” Frank said, “I don’t know what we’re supposed to do.”

 

“Have you guys tried kissing?” Ray asked across the space, breaking Gerard’s concentration.

Frank shook his head.

“Maybe you should.” Ray shrugged, “Cause like, what if it’s really that simple?”

“This isn’t a Disney movie.” Frank informed, unamused as fuck.

“You’re right.” Bob said, “Those are about an hour and a half long. Kissing will take you about 2 seconds.”

Frank _glared._

“We shouldn’t rule anything out. That’s all I’m saying.” Ray said.

“Easy for you to say.” Frank muttered.

“Don’t you like, _wanna_ kiss Gerard anyways?” Bob asked.

Mikey groaned.

“Nope.” Frank said. He looked over at Gerard and nodded. Gerard frowned back.

“We could try it.” Gerard suggested, “What if it _is_ really that simple?”

He swallowed hard. He was nervous all of a sudden, even though there was no good reason for him to be. Frank was staring at him so intently he had to look away. He glanced over at the guys. Bob and Ray were watching them, Mikey was dutifully staring at Ray’s laptop.

“I can’t do it with you guys watching.” Frank informed.

“Nothing we haven’t seen before.” Bob pointed out, looking down at the laptop screen too.

“On stage is different.” Frank said, “C’mon Gee.”

Frank was up and off the couch, pulling Gerard after him. Gerard was more than happy for a way out of the conversation. Frank led them down the hall towards the bunks. He stopped them once they were out of sight. The bus bumped along, Gerard grabbed onto the nearest bunk railings to keep himself steady. Frank was already in his space. They’d been in each other’s space all day, technically, but Gerard was suddenly overly aware of Frank’s proximity.

“So do we just…” Gerard trailed off abortively.

“I just wanted to get away from them.” Frank shrugged, “We don’t actually have to-”

Gerard reached for Frank’s face and stole a kiss before he could say another word. It was just a tiny peck, quick and meaningless. It wasn’t even totally on Frank’s lips all the way. Gerard had sort of missed. Still, Frank looked stunned as Gerard pulled away.

“Still cuffed.” Gerard observed, “Do you feel any different?”

“No” Frank informed, wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand, as if in disgust, “But that wouldn’t have worked anyways, you _Disney fucker._ You have to kiss me like you mean it. Like I’m a princess.”

Gerard couldn’t think of any advantages to laying out his feelings for someone who only wanted him under supernatural circumstances. Even so, he wanted to say that he _had_ meant it, but he suddenly found he couldn’t speak. Frank’s lips were on his again.  

Frank’s lip ring nudged Gerard’s lower lip as he pressed Gerard up against the bunks. Their cuffed wrists were caught between them. Gerard was frozen under Frank’s touch - Curious and also panicking. Somewhere in the back of his mind he’d been wanting this, but now that he had it he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Frank was paralyzing.

The bus went over a bump and Gerard wrapped his free arm around Frank to keep him close.

“Really thought that would work…” Frank said, breathless.

He furrowed his brow as he considered Gerard.

“We’re still...” Gerard trailed off, pulling on the cuffs for emphasis.

“Yeah.” Frank agreed. He squirmed out of Gerard’s grip and pulled on the cuffs, tugging Gerard along, back to the others.

Gerard had read enough fantasy novels to understand the rules that governed love spells, but these magic cuffs had him stumped. Usually there was an obvious way to break a spell, even if it wasn’t necessarily easy.

The reasons behind casting a spell on someone were usually crystal clear as well. Frank and the rest of the guys hadn’t seemed like they had known The Wizard Saporta prior to bringing him on the bus. And Gerard had a hard time imagining there was a long-standing grudge of some kind. He didn’t understand the limitations of the spell they were under, or why.

Ray frowned sympathetically as Frank and Gerard settled onto the couch again. Their still-cuffed wrists did the talking for them.

“No dice.” Frank said anyway.

 

“So we’re gonna move forward with the photo shoot plan then.” Mikey said, “Tonight’s a hotel night anyways. We’ll set up at the hotel.”

“I’ll go talk to the driver about hitting up a Walmart on the way.” Bob said. He blinked at Frank and Gerard.

“But if we see any weird tents in the parking lot, we just won’t go in.” Ray offered, “ _Nobody_ will go in.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Frank snorted.

Bob got up to talk to the driver. Ray had gotten his guitar out while Frank and Gerard had been testing out the kiss theory. His fingers were thoughtlessly searching the fretboard as Mikey mumbled about ingredients for an undoing spell. The younger way’s glasses reflected the light from his laptop.

“I can’t play guitar like this...” Frank said miserably, resting his head on Gerard’s shoulder and shifting to try and make himself more comfortable. When Gerard glanced over, he saw genuine longing and pain in Frank’s eyes. It was sort of ridiculous, and ridiculously cute for him to be so upset about it.

“I bet we could figure it out.” Gerard said, “Wanna try?”

“No.” Frank said, “I can’t think with you in my space bubble like this.”

“Guitar doesn’t seem to require a lot of... _thought_ for you.” Gerard observed.  

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Frank asked humorlessly.

This was getting awkward. Gerard was pretty fed up with being handcuffed to Frank. The feeling appeared to be mutual. When Gerard glanced over, he saw the exhaustion mirrored in Frank’s eyes.

“Sorry.” Frank sighed, “I just _really_ don’t want to be handcuffed to you anymore.”

“Likewise.” Gerard agreed.

Frank shifted again and leaned into Gerard, giving up on trying to keep his distance.

“Just because I make it look easy doesn’t mean that it is.” Frank explained, “Like you with your drawings. It looks really easy when you do it. But you’ve seen my stick figures...”

“I like your stick figures.” Gerard defended.

“No you fucking don’t.” Frank laughed.

“Yeah I fucking do.” Gerard argued, “They’re great.”  

Frank just frowned.

~

 

For about a million reasons, Gerard needed the fucking handcuffs off. Navigating a drugstore with someone with as much energy as Frank was tiresome. Gerard wanted a cigarette and a cup of coffee and a good cry, and all Frank wanted was to peruse the toy aisle.

Mikey and Ray were figuring out the camera situation, leaving Gerard to fend for himself.

Gerard held Frank’s hand as camouflage. They’d pulled the sleeves of their sweatshirts down to hide the cuffs. It had been Ray’s idea to hide the cuffs, lest they ran into someone who might recognize the band. Gerard still wasn’t sure whether he preferred being seen handcuffed to Frank, or holding hands with Frank. The handcuffs were definitely easier to play off. He ducked just in time, and nearly avoided being struck in the face with the plastic sword Frank had been swinging around. He’d overcalculated the swing.

“Whoa. Sorry, Gee.” Frank said.

Gerard wished it was a real sword, and that he was a real wizard, and that he knew what the fuck to do.

 

~

There was an ugly patterned carpet with an ugly patterned bedspread to match. The patterns melted right in with the drapes and the chair in the corner of the room, strewn with backpacks and duffle bags. All cheap hotels were the same.

“Do you really need to use so much product?” Ray asked, watching Mikey spray more hairspray into Frank’s hair, “Aren’t we just going to burn the pictures anyways?”

“Nobody ever lets me do their hair anymore.” Mikey frowned, focusing on shaping Frank’s hair into tufts before the spray dried. The perfume in the product smelled _amazing._

 _“_ I told Brian we don’t need fucking makeup artists. Me and Gerard were managing just fine.” Mikey continued.

“Gerard was sick of doing my eyeliner.” Ray chimed in.

“I was.” Gerard agreed.

They were perched on the edge of a hotel bed. Ray and Bob were perched on the other bed across from them, watching Mikey work his magic.

“Shouldn’t you be doing _my_ hair?” Gerard asked, “I thought I was the one with bad hair.”

“Fuck you. Do your own hair.” Mikey said.

“I can do your eyeliner if you want, Gerard.” Ray offered with a shrug.

“Sure.” Gerard said.

Ray got up and started digging in one of the many bags in the corner of the room in search of Gerard’s makeup kit.

Gerard sighed, immediately choking as he inhaled a whiff of hairspray.

“Watch where you fucking spray that shit.” Gerard choked out.

Frank laughed.

Gerard elbowed him.

“Don’t start something you don’t wanna finish.” Frank warned.

Ray was terrible at makeup. The band had taken it upon themselves to teach him, often letting the lead guitarist use them as guinea pigs.

Toro hadn’t figured eyeliner out just yet. He pushed too hard when he penciled it on someone else. (Though, he wasn’t brave enough to try it on himself.) He didn’t understand the blending that went into a smoky eye. And he always gave Gerard weird wings that made him look like a cartoon girl - Not that Gerard cared.

The wings were particularly uneven this time, making Gerard look and feel crazier than he already was. He glanced at himself in the mirror hanging over the desk next to the TV. Bad hair day, chained to his rhythm guitarist.

 

He frowned into the camera as Mikey snapped the first polaroid.

“You did a good job, Ray.” Mikey commented, “I’m definitely seeing progress.”

“Thanks Mikey.” Ray beamed.

“We’ll get you started on eyeshadow next.” Mikey said, snapping another photo.

“How many pictures do we need?” Gerard asked crossly.

“One.” Mikey said, “But no sense letting all this film go to waste. Frank’s hair looks great.”

“Thanks Mikey.” Frank beamed.

Gerard frowned, but his attitude melted when he looked over and saw how big Frank was smiling.

Mikey turned the camera on himself and took a picture of himself, skinny arms outstretching the camera far in front of him. He was too good at it. That one was definitely going on Myspace.

“Opposites attract.” Bob observed, confirming Gerard’s suspicion that he looked like a pile of garbage right now.  

“Um, _magnets_ attract.” Frank corrected, “They’re not fucking drugged and handcuffed together.”

 

Gerard was yawning by the time his younger brother had set up his blackmagic rig on the ugly patterned carpeting.

“Don’t set off the smoke alarm...” Ray said, eyes glistening as he watched the picture of Frank and Gerard burn. Mikey had his eyes closed, and was mumbling an incantation. The film bubbled and blackened in his hand, peeling apart as the flames licked their way through.

“When is it supposed to work?” Frank asked.

“After midnight.” Ray explained.

“It’s 12:03.” Bob pointed out.

“Well, okay, after the next midnight then.” Ray amended.

“I have to live like this for another 24 hours?” Frank complained.

“ _Just_ another 24 hours.” Bob said, “It’ll all be over soon.”

“Can you guys shut the fuck up?” Mikey asked, “I’m trying to focus.”

The picture was in charred pieces on the carpet.

The room was quiet as Mikey brought his hands together and mumbled more words.

“Didn’t know your brother was a witch.” Frank said quietly.

“Wizard.” Mikey corrected, “Now shush.”

Another moment of incantation and Mikey opened his eyes.

“Do either of you feel any different?” Mikey asked.

“Maybe.” Gerard said, tugged gently on the cuffs.

“Still cuffed.” Frank informed, “Still wanna die.”

 

“Damn. I really thought that would work.” Mikey said.

“It still could.” Ray offered encouragingly, “Let’s give it some time.”

Mikey shrugged defeatedly.

“Well, I’m ready to call it a night.” Bob sighed. He was already up and headed for the door.

“Do you guys need anything else before we go?” Ray asked, getting to his feet.

“Nah.” Frank said, “I think we’re okay.”

“Try to not… kill him, Frank.” Ray said hesitantly, “We need him alive for the next show.”

“You can kill each other after that, we won’t need you anymore.” Bob added sarcastically.  

“What if he kills _me_?” Frank scoffed, offended.

“Gerard’s not capable of killing anyone.” Ray said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

And, okay, Gerard was offended too.

He watched helplessly as the band shuffled out of the room, leaving the charred remains of the undoing spell on the carpet. Something told him he’d have a hard time getting around to cleaning it up with Frank handcuffed to him. They’d left hotel rooms in worst states before, he supposed.

“If you kill me you’ll have to be handcuffed to my dead body. I hope you realize that.” Gerard pointed out as the door closed behind the others, “And good luck getting up to pee then.”

“I’ll just piss on your corpse.” Frank deadpanned, narrowing his eyes.  

“Kidding.” Frank amended, taking in Gerard’s horrified expression, “I’d never pee on you. Murdered or otherwise.”

“Aw. Thanks.” Gerard cooed, shoving Frank, “I’d never pee on you either.”

Frank shoved back.

“Ray really did do a good job on your eyeliner.” Frank said, “He’s getting better.”

“He’s definitely figured out that it’s supposed to _line_ the eyes, that’s for sure.” Gerard agreed, “He fuckin stabbed me in the eye last time. I thought I was gonna be blind.”

“Yeah. I don’t know if I’d trust him with eye shadow.” Frank said, “Mikey’s crazy _._ ”

Gerard reached for the polaroid camera and inspected it. There were a few pictures left.

“What do you wanna do?” Gerard asked.

“I dunno.” Frank said.

“What would you be doing if… it wasn’t like this?” Gerard clarified.

“Let’s see… Real fucking shower. No pants. Beer. Big TV.” Frank mused, heaving a deep sigh, “In no particular order.”

“We can make at least half of those things happen really easily.” Gerard suggested.

By the look on Frank’s face, Gerard could see him working through _which two_ he was talking about.

“Uh. Beer. Big TV.” Gerard amended, “No pants, too, actually.”

Frank’s eyes widened.

“I didn’t mean-” Gerard sputtered, “But you can like, totally take your pants off if you want to…”

Frank frowned and reached for the TV remote.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how we’re supposed to shower like this?” Frank admitted, eyes glued to the TV screen, “Or like, even just fuckin’ change our shirts? I wanna fuckin’ change my shirt. I’d kill a man to change my shirt right about now.”

Gerard wasn’t following and then the logistics of it dawned on him. Frank could pull his shirt over his head but once it got past his arms, down to his wrist, Gerard’s wrist connected with it.

“Oh.” Gerard offered helpfully.

“ _Yeah._ ” Frank agreed.

“Well, we could cut it off of you?” Gerard suggested.

“Fuck you. I like this shirt.” Frank protested, incredulous, “And besides, how would I get another one on?”

Gerard didn’t have an easy answer for that.  

“See? You’re no help.” Frank scoffed.

Gerard turned the camera on himself and snapped a picture. Frank made a tiny, frustrated groan as the flash clicked.  

The bright light left spots in Gerard’s vision. They faded as he waited for the photo to develop.

The frame of his face started to appear in the print the camera had spit out. As the picture became clearer, Gerard studied his hair. He didn’t look any different - not to himself. He wondered why he’d looked different to everyone else.

“Do I look different to you?” Gerard asked.

Frank snorted.

“What?” Gerard asked.

“You’re asking _me._ ” Frank said.

“Yeah.” Gerard nodded, then realized, “Sorry.”

“Ask me again when all this is over.” Frank sighed, “Can we get up real quick? I wanna get something out of my backpack…”

 

After they’d both retrieved their backpacks and Gerard had gotten a glass of water from the bathroom sink, they settled onto the bed more permanently.

“You can draw if you wanna.” Frank said, sliding his headphones on, “I’m not fuckin using my hands.”

He punched his pillow with his free hand.

Gerard heard the buzz of Frank’s music start as he messed with his ipod. He reached for his sketchpad as Frank slung an arm over his eyes.

He wasn’t really in the mood to draw. The lighting in the room was all wrong for sketching. But he didn’t know what else there was to do. He slowly pulled Frank’s hand to rest on the page so he could work. Frank’s fingers twitched as he resettled his hand. Gerard drew a few experimental lines, making a vague outline of an abstract shape. He started sketching the tattoo on the back of Frank’s hand. It was the closest thing in his line of sight.

Now that Frank had mentioned wanting to change his clothes, Gerard was overly aware of how long he’d been wearing his, and how he couldn’t take them _off_.

He scratched at his neck as he thought about it. He felt itches everywhere. The fabric hugging his thighs felt too tight. Gerard blinked at his sketchpad for a few moments.

“Frank?” Gerard asked.

Frank couldn’t hear him over the buzzing in his ears.

“ _Frank._ ” Gerard tried again, clearing his throat.

Frank still couldn’t hear.

Gerard poked at Frank’s side and the guitarist immediately looked up. He pulled his headphones off and frowned at Gerard, confused.

“‘Sup?” he asked.

“Do you care if I take my pants off?” Gerard asked.

Frank furrowed his brow. Of course he didn’t care if Gerard took his pants off.

“Uh…” Frank faltered, “ _No, dude._ Go for it.”

“Sorry.” Gerard explained, “I think I’m freaking out.”

“Don’t freak out.” Frank soothed, struggling to sit up properly with his free hand. He was in Gerard’s bubble all of a sudden. His face took up most of Gerard’s line of sight. His eyes were dark in the dim lamplight.

“I can’t take my shirt off.” Gerard pointed out quietly.

“I can’t either.” Frank said soothingly, “It’s okay. We’re gonna be fine.”

“This is like claustrophobia but _weirder._ ” Gerard said.

“You never fucking change your clothes, Gee.” Frank joked lightly, “We have to beg you to change them. Why is this a problem all of a sudden?”

“You made me realize.” Gerard shrugged.

Frank grabbed Gerard’s sketchbook and tossed it to the end of the bed.

“Okay.” Frank said, decidedly, “What do we need to do to make you feel comfortable again? I think you still have those haircutting scissors in your makeup kit? Want me to cut your shirt off?”

“Maybe.” Gerard said, biting his lip, “But I _like_ this shirt.”

“No shirt is worth freaking out over.” Frank offered, “It _would_ be sort of hard to explain this to the guys though. Because I’m not exactly sure how we’d get another shirt on you. Maybe we could get you a cape...”

Gerard nodded seriously.

“When was the last time you smoked a cigarette?” Frank asked, “Maybe you just need to smoke, dude?”

“Yeah...” Gerard blinked, “Okay.”

They were definitely starting to get better at maneuvering with the handcuffs. Getting off the bed was mostly painless. It occurred to Gerard that had his foot gotten twisted in the blankets and he tripped, he would’ve pulled Frank down with him. And then Frank might’ve broken his neck and Gerard would be handcuffed to a dead guy and explaining all that to the cops would definitely be the end of the band. They’d be out a rhythm guitarist for one. And two, it wouldn’t go over well with the press. Brian would kill them all. He’d probably kill Frank twice, just for being dead in the first place. And then they’d put him away for murder. That wizard was going to pay. _Seriously._

They made their way out to the balcony. Frank wordlessly lit Gerard’s cigarette before lighting his own. Gerard helped him shelter the flame from the breeze. His pale face was illuminated momentarily by the flicker of his lighter.

“Better?” Frank asked, exhaling sharply.

“Yeah...” Gerard said sheepishly, breathing in the cool, crisp air, “Still wanna take my fucking pants off.”

“Well, you totally can.” Frank quipped, “No one’s stopping you.”

 

They were quiet then. Gerard was trying his hardest to recollect himself. He focused on breathing, on holding his cigarette between his fingers, on chewing his lower lip, on all the things he still had total control over.

Frank had been carrying himself with an eerie sort of stillness since he’d realized he’d consumed a love potion. It wasn’t like him to stand so still - to be so quiet. He wasn’t himself.

 

Gerard blew a puff of smoke in Frank’s face to get his attention.

“What does it feel like to be in love?” Gerard found himself asking.

Frank just laughed.

“I wasn’t asking… about _this._ ” Gerard backtracked, gesturing awkwardly between them with his cigarette, “Hear me out. I guess I was just wondering because I’m curious if I’ve ever actually been in love, you know? If you drank a love potion, you know _for certain_ , what it feels like.”

Frank didn’t answer right away.

He considered Gerard with a hard, unamused look. Gerard held his ground. He wanted answers.

“Just because I love you doesn’t mean I have to tell you everything, you understand that right?” Frank asked.

“It’s not like that.” Gerard said ashing his cigarette over the balcony railings, “It’s like… If I’ve never been in love, I wanna know...”

“Way to make me feel like an asshole...” Frank scolded gently.

“I guess, if you must know, I’ve thought about it…” Frank said, clearing his throat, “If this is what real love feels like… then I fall in love all the fucking time, dude. Like, every day.”

“Huh.” Gerard exhaled.

“It’s just… with you, it doesn’t go away when you’re not in front of me anymore.” Frank explained, “It _lingers._ It’s... _awful._ ”

Gerard wanted to point out that he thought he was a perfectly fine person to be in love with, but he kept his mouth occupied with the end of his smoke.

“But this band is so much more important than your stupid pretty face.” Frank said thoughtfully, “I won’t let myself forget that.”

Gerard nearly choked on the smoke in his throat. Frank thought he was _pretty._

 _“_ Man, I wanna play guitar...” Frank sighed, flicking the rest of his cigarette off the balcony, “ _Alone._ No offense.”

Gerard kept his mouth shut as they went back inside, like if he thought about it hard enough, he could make himself disappear. He tried to keep himself from touching Frank as much as was possible. Their arms brushed a few times.

 

Frank pulled them back onto the bed and put his headphones back on, leaving Gerard with nothing to distract himself from the thought that he felt so fucking far away from a person he was literally handcuffed to.

 

~

 

Gerard opened his eyes and immediately closed them again to block out the bright light of early morning sun. They hadn’t closed the curtains before passing out. His arm was asleep under the weight of Frank and his nose was cold from the chill of the room.

Frank was still mostly asleep, wrapped around Gerard’s middle. They’d slept in the same bed plenty of times before. Frank liked to cuddle, as much as he’d deny it if it ever came up. They’d been in this position a million times. Under different circumstances Gerard might’ve even welcomed it, but his mouth was dry and his arm was numb. He wanted a sip of water, and the feeling back in his fucking fingers.

Gerard blinked a few times to adjust his eyes. He shifted his weight to see if he could free his arm out from under the rhythm guitarist. He felt the pins and needles as the blood tried to circulate under pressure. The small movement only seemed to make Frank press tighter.

The subtle shift made Gerard painfully aware of how _hard_ Frank was. Their legs were tangled together. The punk’s warm, shallow breaths were ghosting over Gerard’s neck.

Gerard hadn’t exactly formed any conclusions yet. It was too early in the day for conclusions. But suddenly his dick was incredibly... _interested._

It had been a while since Gerard had gotten laid, which definitely wasn’t helping the situation.

Frank stirred and pressed his hips against Gerard’s leg, and Gerard’s breath promptly caught in his fucking throat. He could still back his way out of this if Frank just stopped fucking _grinding on him_ like that.

Gerard turned his head towards Frank. His lips were close to Frank’s forehead. It would be so easy to press his lips to the punk’s temple. His cheek nudged Frank’s headphones, still on the pillow from the night before.

Gerard knew better than this. He wasn’t looking to be murdered in his hotel room by a violently lovesick guitarist. He knew all too well how strong and capable Frank’s hands were. He’d watched the guy throw guitars through drum sets on a weekly basis for… far too long now. And he wouldn’t exactly be able to run away when Frank woke up and put two and two together.

Gerard tried to nudge Frank with his shoulder.  
Frank groaned, still blissfully halfway between dreamland and morning sex. He sounded turned on, too. Gerard tried to think unsexy thoughts.

Ray’s face.

Ray’s _mom’s_ face.

Frank was quickly shifting out of dreamland, right into morning sex. He gave Gerard’s leg another rough, needy thrust. The drag of his cock, still under the fabric of his boxers, was agonizingly hot. Gerard was so _fucked._

He wanted to fuck. _Fuck._

“ _Gee…_ ” Frank groaned, voice thick with sleep.

Gerard’s heart fluttered at the sound of his own name in Frank’s blissed out, morning sex voice. He was so fucking fucked, dick at full attention, down for whatever.

Panic set in. His heart was going a mile a minute.

Gerard felt the change as Frank tensed up. The rhythm guitarist slid away, leaving a brush of warm sheets against the part of Gerard’s arm that still had any feeling.  

The lower half of Gerard’s arm was pins and needles in the absence of Frank’s weight. Gerard held his fucking breath, trying to swallow the wave of guilt and confusion and fucking _desire._

“Please tell me you aren’t awake yet.” Frank said quietly.  

Gerard blinked, quickly trying to choose between pretending to be asleep, and drawing attention to what had just transpired. He knew he had to tread carefully.  

“Uh…” Gerard offered abortively, foolishly giving himself away.

“ _Fuck._ ” Frank breathed.

“If you could just… not say that word...” Gerard trailed off.

Frank groaned; No longer turned on - just, awake and suffering.  

Gerard was afraid to look over. He blinked at the ceiling, numb arm outstretched between them, bound by the cuffs still around their wrists for yet another day? Eternity? Who knew?

“If it makes you feel any better I’m hard too.” Gerard tried. It took him less than a millisecond to regret it.

“ _What?_ ” Frank asked, voice breathlessly confused and pained.

“Uh. Nevermind.” Gerard backtracked.

 

Gerard startled at the sharp crack of a knock at the door.

“Party bus leaves at noon, fuckers.” Bob’s voice came through, “Don’t make us leave without you. Text coffee requests to Ray.”

The two of them were frozen and silent. Awkwardly laying there, trying to stretch as much space between them as they could.

“You’re not under a spell...” Frank observed.

“I could be.” Gerard sighed, “You said so yourself. Maybe it’s contagious. Like a cold?”

“If you have a cold you better stay the fuck away from me.” Frank groaned, “I can’t get sick on top of all of this...”

Frank slung his free arm over his eyes.

“Look…” Gerard paused, “I don’t know the next time we’re gonna be alone like this…”

“ _Gerard._ ” Frank scolded. He pulled on the cuffs, pulling Gerard’s hand up to his mouth. He placed a quick kiss to the back of Gerard’s hand. Gerard barely felt it through the pins and needles.

“You’re not under a spell.” Frank said again morosely, and then he was peeling the blankets back and dragging Gerard out of bed.

 

Hiding a quasi-boner from a person he was handcuffed to proved to be somewhat of a challenge, but every time Gerard glanced over at Frank, Frank was dutifully looking away. They had their pants on, and all their belongings shoved into their bags before Gerard could feel his fingers all the way again. By then, the awkward moment had been replaced by more pressing matters, like not being left in a hotel parking lot in the middle of fucking nowhere.

“Is it cool if I brush my teeth?” Frank asked.

Gerard followed Frank into the bathroom and pulled out his phone. He had a few texts from Mikey, but he was hesitant to open them in such close proximity to Frank.

“You want coffee?” Gerard asked.

“Nah.” Frank said around a mouthfull of toothbrush, “I’m gonna go back to sleep as soon as we’re back on the bus.”

Gerard texted his latte request to Ray, including a small coffee for Frank, for when he inevitably changed his mind later on.

~

 

They were back on the road again before Gerard was even properly caffeinated. Frank had made good on his promise to go back to sleep. He curled up on the couch in the lounge, next to Gerard, using Gerard’s thigh as a pillow.

Gerard’s thigh had been through more than enough attention from Frank for one day, but Gerard tried to keep the thought at arm’s length. He focused instead on running his fingers through Frank’s hair to keep him subdued, while he watched Ray re-string one of his guitars.

A sense of melancholy had settled over the bus. No one knew how they were supposed to play a show with their rhythm guitarist magically handcuffed to their frontman. The band’s tendency towards theatrics might save them. The fans expected weird shit, but the fans also expected Frank to be able to wail out the bridge to ‘Cemetery Drive’ on queue, and Gerard wasn’t sure how they were gonna pull it off just yet.

Every time he made eye contact with Mikey, he saw the same questions reflected in the younger Way’s eyes.

Gerard wondered if maybe Frank had caught a cold of some kind after all, because the punk slept most of the day. He was sort of impressed by Frank’s ability to sleep through the crunch of Ray practicing with the distortion turned all the way up.

 

By sundown, they were pulling into some parking lot, with a depressing family restaurant off to one side. Gerard was just grateful to stretch his legs and get some air.

Frank followed Gerard around the bus, still drowsy, as they looked for a quiet place for a smoke. He rested his head on Gerard’s shoulder as he yawned and blinked away sleep.

Gerard wasn’t even mad when he stole the cigarette out from between his lips and took a drag. At least Frank was still Frank.

 

They wandered into the restaurant, only to find the rest of the band had already gotten a table in inside the bar. The rest of the tables on the ‘family’ side were full.

The place was oddly busy for a weeknight.The bar across the room was completely surrounded.

The band was just glad to blend in. Ray’s hair was the most recognizable to fans, usually. He’d managed to shove a considerable amount of his hair into one of Bob’s many beanies to keep a low profile.

Someone had ordered a pitcher of beer. Frank didn’t touch the glass Bob slid in front of him.

They were all quiet after the waitress had come to take their orders. It was Karaoke night apparently. Watching some wasted guy butcher a country song Gerard had never heard before was pretty enthralling. He wasn’t alone apparently. When he glanced around, the rest of the band was staring, too. Touring always led them to the strangest little shit towns.

Frank didn’t look sleepy anymore. In the absence of exhaustion he just looked pissed off. He kept trying to cross his arms every time he let out a frustrated sigh, haphazardly launching Gerard’s hand in his direction. He wasn’t talking to anyone, and said no more than two words to Ray or Bob either of the times the other members of the band tried to engage him in conversation. He ate in silence, and barely reacted when Mikey threw a french fry at him from across the table.

“What’s eating Frank?” Bob asked Gerard.

Frank stood up from the table. His chair screeched against the floor as he kicked it out from behind him.

“Are you done eating?” Frank asked coldly, glancing at the remnants of Gerard’s veggie burger.

“Uh, yeah? Mostly.” Gerard said.

“Can we go back to the bus?” Frank requested.

“Sure.” Gerard nodded, “Just…”

“Will you put in my Karaoke request on your way out?” Mikey asked, handing Gerard a slip of paper. He tilted his head in the direction of the bar.

 

Gerard read the song request slip as they walked over.

“ _Nothing Compares To You - Sinead O’Connor_ ” spelled out in the younger Way’s messy scrawl. He hadn’t written his own name at the bottom of the slip, though. He’d written Ray’s. Fuck. Gerard wanted to watch Ray slay that shit.

Frank had other plans, apparently. He was tugging Gerard out of the restaurant as soon as he’d handed the slip over to the bartender.

“Frank wait…” Gerard requested, arm outstretched as he tried to make Frank slow the fuck down.

“No.” Frank said simply.

“I don’t mind if you want to drink.” Gerard tried.

It was quiet, and cold outside - a nice contrast to the warm, loud bar.

“I don’t want to drink.” Frank said blankly.

“Don’t tell me you don’t.” Gerard said, “Frank, even _I_ want a fucking drink right now.”

Frank stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes were shining in the orange glow of the parking lot lights as he glared at Gerard.

“That’s exactly why I _can’t._ ” Frank said quietly, “I can’t do that to you.”

“You need to blow off some steam.” Gerard said assuredly, “It’s okay. I can handle it. You guys do this shit to me all the time.”

“No.” Frank said, “Come on. I wanna go back to bed.”

“Slow down.” Gerard panted after Frank, as the rhythm guitarist practically dragged him towards the bus, “What’s the rush?”

For someone who smoked, Frank sure could fucking move.

“I can’t believe they ordered a pitcher.” Frank said, climbing the stairs onto the bus, “Like, did they just forget you’re sober? _You_ can’t forget. It doesn’t seem fair that _they_ can just forget.”

“They didn’t forget.” Gerard soothed, “Mikey cares a lot. They just… they need to blow off some steam, too, Frank. We all do. It’s fine.”

“ _It’s not fine._ ” Frank challenged, staring angrily at the floor of the bus. He bit at his nails with his free hand.

“What’s your problem?” Gerard asked.

“What’s… _my problem?_ ” Frank laughed humorlessly.

“Yeah. You’ve been weird all day.” Gerard pressed.

“None of this would’ve happened if we’d just…” Frank trailed off angrily, staring down at the floor.

“ _I know._ ” Gerard said, “ _It’s okay._ I don’t blame you.”

“This doesn’t mean you can’t keep doing what you’ve been doing.” Gerard added, “Just because I have to grow up doesn’t mean the rest of you have to. Don’t let one drunk wizard ruin the fun for everyone else.”

Frank rolled his eyes.

“I’ve learned my lesson.” Frank insisted, “No more drunk hitchhikers.”

“Do you think that’s what this was about?” Gerard mused, “Learning a lesson?”

“No.” Frank said, shaking his head, “Because if that’s what this is about it would be over by now, right? Lesson learned.”

“Maybe there’s something else we’re supposed to learn?” Gerard suggested.

“ _What the fuck else is there?_ ” Frank asked sincerely, “I’m never trusting drunk people or wizards or any other kind of hitchhikers ever again. And I’m certainly not drinking anything unlabeled anyone hands me ever again. And if anyone tells me to close my eyes for a surprise I’m just going to tell them to fuck off. What else is there?”

“I don’t know…” Gerard said honestly, tugging experimentally at the handcuffs.

“I hate this.” Frank sighed.

Gerard tilted Frank’s chin up with two fingers. Frank frowned, giving Gerard a pleading look.

“Look, you gotta promise you won’t beat the shit out of me when this is all over.” Gerard said quietly.

“For _what?_ ” Frank asked, clearly still fuming.

Gerard stepped into Frank’s space and kissed him. It was rough, and slightly off-center, but Frank’s mouth was on board right away. He kissed back, needy and desperate, evening out Gerard’s poor landing. The rest of him was frozen against Gerard. His arms were still as close to crossed as someone with handcuffs could get.

“What the fuck are you _doing?_ ” Frank asked, pulling away enough to speak. He wouldn’t get far.

“Blowing off steam.” Gerard answered easily, staring intently into Frank’s eyes.

As Frank put two and two together, he all but launched himself at Gerard.

He tried to push Gerard back towards the bunks without pulling his lips away. There weren’t any good places to make out towards the back of the bus, not if they wanted privacy.

There were so many things on the floor. The dim lighting didn’t help. Guitar cases, t-shirts, a package of paper towels. Gerard really needed to figure out these handcuffs so he could get back to tidying the bus regularly. These people were slobs. Himself included.

His mind, and hands, were busy at the moment, though - exploring the expanse of skin he could reach with a single hand up the back of Frank’s shirt. The fingers he’d tangled into Gerard’s on their handcuffed hands were so rough and callused, but everything else about him was _soft._ His lips, his hair, his back. Frank was so soft everywhere.

“I’ve been… _so good_ … all day.” Frank informed weakly, voice pained.

“ _So good._ ” Gerard agreed under his breath.

“That’s not what I meant.” Frank tried to laugh.  

They were stopped at the bunks. They’d have to break apart to crawl in. He wasn’t even sure how he’d get Frank on top, logistically speaking. It would be cramped. Hitting his head on the bunk above would be a definite turn off for the punk.

Gerard’s scheming was short circuited as Frank pushed him up against the wall. He sighed into Gerard’s mouth, licking a swipe across Gerard’s lower lip. If Gerard had known things would be like this, he wouldn’t have waited so long to push Frank’s buttons like this.

He had Frank’s undivided attention. Frank’s whole body was pressed up against his, warm and insistent.

Gerard let Frank lead him to the back lounge. It had a door at least. He thought it probably locked, though he doubted it locked _well._

“Is there somewhere else we can go?” Frank breathed, closing the door behind them and fumbling with the lock, “Somewhere that’s… well, _not here._ ”

His lips were back on Gerard’s before Gerard could get an answer out.

“They’re doing karaoke.” Gerard supplied in between kisses, “We have time.”

That answer seemed to satisfy Frank, because he was maneuvering Gerard down onto the couch. The couch was hardly wide enough for Gerard, let alone a second person. With nowhere else to fit, Frank slid onto Gerard’s lap, pinning him eagerly to the couch. He steadied himself by bracing himself with their handcuffed hands above Gerard’s head.   

His lips were on Gerard’s again immediately. Frank kissed like he played guitar, throwing his whole body and soul into it with everything he had. It was a shame his good hand was locked up. Gerard was more than curious what his wrist-work was like.

The thought had him painfully aware of how hard he was. Frank was grinding on him, hard too, and breathing _harder._ This, Gerard thought, was how this morning should’ve gone. His hand traveled up under the hem of Frank’s t-shirt again. It was riding up, low around his ribs.

Frank’s lips wandered to Gerard’s neck.

“Wish you could take your shirt off.” Gerard verbalized.

Frank leaned back, pulling his t-shirt high up on his chest, like he wanted to give Gerard exactly what he wanted.

“You like the ink.” Frank concluded smugly, “I _knew it._ ”

“There’s _so much_.” Gerard said, letting his fingers trace the outline of one of the sparrows on Frank’s hip.

“Yeah.” Frank agreed, obviously amused.

Gerard’s fingers traced lower, over Frank’s belt loop, towards the button on his jeans. Frank’s hand covered his, to stop him from trying to work it open. He gave Gerard a conflicted, tormented look.

“What do you want?” Gerard asked, “...Right now, I mean. What do you want _right now?_ ”

“Whatever you’ll fucking _give me._ ” Frank answered weakly. He guided Gerard’s hand lower, over his dick, outlined by his tight jeans. Frank bit his lip as Gerard palmed eagerly at his hard on. He loosened his grip on Gerard’s hand and just let himself be touched.

He let out a gasp as Gerard gave his dick a gentle squeeze. His hips gave a needy twitch towards Gerard’s hand.

“ _This is so fucked up_.” Frank said breathlessly, tilting his head back.

“We can... stop?” Gerard suggested, entirely uninterested in stopping.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Frank warned, regaining enough focus to give Gerard a pleading look. Gerard almost missed it with the way Frank’s hair was covering his eyes.

He kissed Gerard then, hard and desperate. Gerard fumbled with the button on his jeans as Frank’s tongue explored his mouth.

Trying to tug Frank’s tight jeans down far enough to let his dick spring free was complicated with only one hand. Frank clearly wasn’t going to be of much help, with only one hand to work with himself.

Gerard gave up and fumbled his hand into Frank’s pants. The open zipper was tight around his wrist, but the answering moan Frank made when Gerard touched him for real was worth the struggle.

Frank bit gently at Gerard’s lower lip, trying to muffle the needy sounds in his throat in some rough kissing. He sounded like pure porn.

Gerard’s jeans were entirely too tight to go on. He fumbled his hand out of Frank’s pants to undo the button on his jeans. The fly slid right down and the release of pressure was heaven.

Frank, having understandably misread the situation, had his hand down Gerard’s pants in no time at all. Gerard sucked in a breath, eyes falling closed as Frank thumbed at the head of his cock. Frank had been right. This _was_ fucked up. Hooking up with a bandmate shouldn’t be so awesome.

He went right back to touching Frank. It was all too much and yet somehow, entirely not enough.

The guitarists wrist work was jerky and erratic as Gerard started to pick up the pace. Frank tried to mirror his speed, but couldn’t seem to get it right with his non-dominant hand.

“This isn’t even my good hand.” Frank informed under his breath.

“You’ll have to show me your good hand sometime.” Gerard moaned.

“ _Any time._ ” Frank promised, squeezing Gerard’s cock a little harder as he jacked it.

“ _Frank._ ” Gerard begged.

“Don’t say my name like that, dude.” Frank complained weakly, “I’m so fuckin’ close. Haven’t been able to jack off for _days._ ”

And oh. _Oh._ The thought of Frank doing this to himself, probably in his bunk, or in the hotel shower. Gerard was close, too. Frank was bucking his hips right into Gerard’s hand. He hardly had to move at all. The punk was doing all the work.

“ _Frank._ ” Gerard moaned again, half meaning it, half fucking with Frank.

Frank fucking lost it, practically growling as he came all over Gerard’s hand, still trapped in his jeans. He bucked his hips, riding out his orgasm with blissed out little “ah” sounds, like the rest of the band wouldn’t potentially walk in at any moment. He was too far gone to care.

Gerard, still hard and desperate, was suddenly too aware of this possibility. A panicky rush set in.

“ _Fuck this._ ” Frank said, trying to slide further down Gerard’s body.

Gerard was frozen, hand still covered in cum, in awe as it dawned on him that Frank was probably about to blow him.

Frank tugged experimentally at Gerard’s jeans to try and get them lower on his hips. Gerard wanted to help, but his free hand was a slippery fucking mess.

“Your pants are too tight.” Frank informed with a chuckle.

Gerard tried to laugh too, but all that came out was a needy sigh. He tried desperately to wipe the cum off on the faux leather of the couch his hand came in contact with. All he managed to do was smear it around. Totally gross. The guys would hate them if they knew about this. Ray _liked_ this couch.

Frank seemed to have managed just fine without Gerard’s hand anyways. Gerard bit his lip as Frank’s tongue came in contact with the tip of his dick.

“ _Frank._ ” Gerard moaned uselessly, “ _Fuck._ ”

Frank moaned around his dick in answer, taking it deeper into his mouth. He’d never thought of Frank like this, staring up at Gerard through heavy lids with his mouth stretched tight around his dick.

Frank’s fingers twitched against Gerard’s wrist on their cuffed hands. The intimacy of it had Gerard closing his eyes and just feeling it. All of it. The weight of Frank on his legs, the slide of his tongue, the drag of his fingers.  
Gerard was not going to last long, and he suspected it was probably for the better. They were running out of guaranteed time. Someone would probably want to do another song after Ray. Gerard was fucking banking on it at this point, but beyond that… who knew?

Frank’s free hand was splayed over Gerard’s exposed hip, clammy palm holding him down. It took all of Gerard’s willpower to not just buck up into Frank’s mouth. But willpower only went so far. A few more swirls of Frank’s tongue, and Gerard tripped right into one hell of a panicky orgasm.

“ _Fucker._ ” Frank grumbled affectionately, jacking him through the aftershocks with jerky, unpracticed movements.

Gerard couldn’t fucking move. His body felt heavy and emptied out.

Frank’s lips found his. It felt strange to kiss Frank without the previous urgency. There was no excuse for it. They were merely kissing because they wanted to. Because it felt right.

Gerard sincerely wanted to wash his hands. They’d sort of dried, leaving his palm stiff and sort of tacky. Frank seemed to have similar complaints because he was soon dragging Gerard, heavy and disoriented, into the bus’s bathroom. They washed their hands, helped each other sort out the fastenings on their jeans, and ended up sneaking in some more kissing behind the safety of the locked bathroom door.

Gerard carded his clean hand through Frank’s hair, training his hair out of his eyes as they kissed. He was running out of steam, which, he supposed was what he’d set out to do in the first place. The adrenaline was wearing off. He wasn’t sure what was supposed to come next. They were probably supposed to talk about this or something. You couldn’t take back a blow job, not as far as Gerard knew.

Frank easily filled in the blanks Gerard’s mind had created. He silently led Gerard out of the bathroom and grabbed his smokes off the table.

Yes. A cigarette. That was what Gerard wanted.  

 

As Frank lit his smoke, inhaled and passed it over, it occurred to Gerard that this is what it would be like. They could wake up tangled up in each other on hotel beds. They could slip off to mess around while the rest of the guys sang karaoke. And Frank would still be _Frank_ about it. He’d still pull Gerard out of his weirdness and even everything out until it was okay again. He’d still pass Gerard his cigarette, to bite off the same smoke. He’d still bump Gerard’s side and ask him what he was thinking about.

Though, in the moment, that question seemed a little more loaded.

“What are you thinking about?” Frank asked anyways.

How could Gerard summarize his thoughts in a way that would make sense to Frank? Telling Frank he was still Frank after sex didn’t make much sense. Could what they’d just done even be considered sex? Where did people draw the line? Were they “fucking” now? How many fucks constituted “fucking”?

“Stuff.” Gerard answered around his shared cigarette, because he also couldn’t simply tell Frank he was thinking about “fucking.”  

“What kind of stuff.” Frank asked smoothly. It almost wasn’t even a question. He wanted Gerard to fill the silence. The answer didn’t matter.

“Mikey signed Ray up to do ‘Nothing Compares To You.’” Gerard said, “I wonder if Ray knows yet.”

“Oh man.” Frank said, letting out a breath of a laugh.

“It’s possible we haven’t missed it yet.” Gerard shrugged, “Wanna go see?”

“Nah.” Frank said, plucking his cigarette out from between Gerard’s lips, “I’m still mad about the beer...”

“How are you mad right now?” Gerard asked incredulously. He didn’t think he could get mad if he tried.

“Have you met me before? I’m always mad.” Frank scoffed, “ _About everything._ All the time... Never stops.”

Gerard swallowed the weird feeling of defeat that ensued. He thought he’d only been trying to help, and now he couldn’t help but wonder if his justifications for hooking up with Frank were a bit more selfish than that.

Frank stepped closer into his space, leaving Gerard with nowhere to go but back against the side of the bus. He tried to look away, but Frank slid easily into his line of sight, smiling like the asshole he was.

“ _Hey._ ” Frank said.

Gerard stole the cigarette back from Frank’s fingers and rolled his eyes as he took a drag. Frank couldn’t move up into the sky, so Gerard looked up at the stars.

“I didn’t say I don’t feel better.” Frank offered, “... I _do._ ”

“Me too.” Gerard huffed.

Frank’s lips pressed against Gerard’s cheek. Gerard froze. It was almost too intimate to have come from Frank. The wires between friend and lover were crossing in his brain. Frank belonged in one of those categories. Not both.  

“You’re not under a spell...” Frank observed quietly.

“You don’t know that.” Gerard pointed out, “Maybe I am? Maybe it’s contagious?”

“I don’t think you are.” Frank countered, “In fact, I _know_ you aren’t. You would’ve told me if you thought you were.”

“I don’t tell you everything.” Gerard deflected.

“First of all, yeah you do.” Frank laughed, breath warm against Gerard’s cheek, “And second of all, I’m fucking handcuffed to you. You would’ve mentioned it to Mikey by now and you haven’t. You don’t think you’re under a spell, so I don’t think so either.”

“Well now that you mention it…” Gerard breathed, “I _am_ feeling kind of weird.”  

Frank laughed again.

“You wanted to hook up. It’s cool.” Frank said, practically hanging off Gerard, “I’m cool with it. _Obviously._ ”  

Gerard wanted to tell Frank it was so much more than just hooking up, but his bravery was used up for the evening, and besides, Frank’s lips were on his again.

 

They ended up back on the bus, curled up in Gerard’s bunk with the lights out. Frank had been courteous enough to share his ear buds. The tinny sound of a guitar solo blasted in one ear. At least, Gerard thought it was a guitar solo. Most of the singing was coming through on Frank’s side. Gerard could sort of hear it every time Frank’s lips ended up back on his.

Kissing wasn’t getting old. The need to touch and feel and claim remained, long after they’d settled in. Frank obviously wasn’t fucking going anywhere. He was literally chained to Gerard, but even so Gerard felt the need to keep his attention, remind the guitarist that he was still there, that he still wanted this.

 

The rounds of Karaoke had finally ended. When Frank heard Ray’s hoarse voice complaining about something or other across the parking lot, he buried his face in Gerard’s shirt and pretended to be asleep. The curtain on his bunk was closed, so none of the guys would be able to tell anyways. Gerard let his eyes fall closed and let out a deep breath. Frank shifted his weight, letting himself get comfortable against Gerard’s side. Pretending to be asleep meant they could be alone together for longer, and Gerard was all for that.

 

A light came on at the other end of the bus. He heard someone turn on the TV and change the channel, followed by the sound of a beer cracking open. Mikey’s voice, kept low in an attempt to not wake Gerard and Frank. The rumble of the bus’s engine as the driver started it up again masked the voices coming from the other room.

 

“I could get used to this.” Gerard mouthed, focusing on the music playing in his right ear. He pulled the ear bud out and ran his free hand through Frank’s hair.

~

 

The rumble of the engine was gone. Gerard woke up alone in his bunk. His brain was trying desperately to work through how it was possible that he had enough room to stretch out his legs. He rolled over into the space where Frank should be. His hand instinctively flew to his wrist. He was surprised by the absence of the metal cuff. It had been around his wrist for days, and now it was gone. He was free. _Frank_ was free.

 

Gerard almost smacked his head scrambling out of the bunk. Everyone else was already up and off the bus. He squinted out the windows. The sun was high in the sky. The bus was parked in a lot somewhere, surrounded by other tour buses. They’d made it to the stadium.

The first thing Gerard did was take his fucking shirt off. The cool air tickled his skin. The hairs on his arms stood up. He peeled his blankets back, looking for a different shirt to wear. He didn’t care if it was clean it just needed to be _different._

A glint of something caught his eye. He shoved his pillow aside. The handcuffs hadn’t disappeared altogether. He picked them up and carefully inspected them. The locking mechanism was clear now. It hadn’t been there before. Gerard swore it hadn’t.  
With everyone else gone, it was the only clear evidence he had to work with. He shoved the cuffs into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled on the first shirt his fingers reached. A hoodie soon followed, just because Gerard could wear… _whatever the fuck he wanted._

He nearly leapt down the steps off the bus with coffee and a shower at the forefront of his brain. Frank was a close second. Gerard wanted him bad, like he wanted a fucking cigarette.  

As he glanced around he saw Ray and Mikey in the distance, headed towards him. He started walking in their direction.

 

“Where’s Frank?” he asked as soon as they were in earshot.

 

“ _Hiding?_ ” Ray suggested, in unison with Mikey, who said, “‘ _Dunno._ ”

 

“Pinch me.” Gerard requested, “Ray, I mean.”

Mikey smirked. They shared a look. Mikey pinched hard.

“Am I dreaming?” Gerard asked, holding out his arm for Ray to pinch.

Ray just poked gently at his wrist. Good enough.

“When did you see him last?” Gerard asked.

“In line for the roller coaster.” Mikey said.

“Roller coaster?” Gerard asked, running a hand through his hair.

“ _We_ were in line for the roller coaster.” Ray explained, “ _He_ was headed somewhere else.”

“He had a snow cone.” Mikey added helpfully.

“Should I go look for him?” Gerard verbalized, locking eyes with Mikey. Ray would just have to be a part of this conversation, too.

“I don’t know.” Mikey shrugged, “As soon as he realized he wasn’t chained to you he fucking _bolted_. Didn’t seem like he wanted to hang out.”

Gerard must’ve looked horrified, because Ray shot him a sympathetic glance.

“Alright.” Gerard nodded.  

“Placebo’s playing a free show in about a half hour.” Ray said, “That’s where Bob is right now.”

“You should check out the carnival at the very least.” Mikey supplied, “It’s pretty sick.”

Gerard blinked. Mikey _had_ mentioned Frank being chained to him, which meant he hadn’t been deposited in an alternate reality where the last couple of days hadn’t been fucking weird.

“I was handcuffed to Frank, right?” Gerard asked anyway, “That wasn’t some fucked up dream, was it?”

“What?” Mikey asked, mocking shock.

Ray punched the younger Way’s arm.

“Yeah. That happened.” Ray said.

“Okay. Cool.” Gerard said, “So uh, _Coffee?_ ”

“I think I saw a booth with espresso.” Ray said, pulling off his artist badge and passing it to Gerard.  

And that was all Gerard needed to hear.

 

He waded through the thickening crowds, espresso in hand, praying his sunglasses and a pulled up hood would be enough to keep fans from recognizing him. He found the mainstage, where the sound techs were still setting up.

Bob liked to get into the crowd. Gerard was more of a backstage kind of guy. He flashed Ray’s artist badge to security and they waved him through. A black guitar shined brightly in the sunlight off stage left.

He found a place to sit in the shadows behind the guitars, out of the view of the audience, and out of the way of the show staff. People in ‘EVENT STAFF’ shirts were buzzing around him, paying him no mind, not even asking what the fuck he was doing there. He tuned out the sound of their radio discourse and pulled out the handcuffs for further inspection.

They were ordinary cuffs. Probably not even the kind that cops used. They seemed way too easy to open. Gerard wasn’t sure how it had been such a problem.

“ _Gee Way!_ ” a voice sing-songed.

Gerard’s head shot up at the sound of his own name.

The Wizard Saporta was sitting down in front of him. The black cloak had been traded in for jeans and a t-shirt. If Gerard didn’t know better, he never would’ve noticed the guy. His face was still glittering. The nose ring shone brightly in a shaft of sunlight.

The wizard pulled off his sunglasses and tucked them onto the collar of his t-shirt. Then he gave Gerard a dazzling smile.  

“Hey!” Gerard said, stuffing the cuffs into the pocket of his hoodie.

“You’re not mad.” The Wizard observed.

“Not right now.” Gerard shrugged, surprised by his own answer, “I might be later.”

“That’s fair.” The Wizard tutted, crossing his legs and settling in more comfortably, “Frankie’s mad enough for the both of you.”

“He is. You a fan of Placebo?” Gerard asked, politely changing the subject, “Or are you just here to bother me?”

“Well, both.” The Wizard scoffed.

“Actually I’m glad you’re here.” Gerard said.

The Wizard smiled.

“I just… I wanted to know how you did it?” Gerard said, pulling the cuffs out again.

“A magician never reveals his secrets.” Saporta said, waving his fingers in a circle.

Gerard bit his lip and looked down at the cuffs again.

“I’m not that good yet.” The Wizard said quietly, “I can’t make magic handcuffs, but I can make a spell that makes everyone _think_ they’re magic. It’s not about altering the item itself, it’s about altering how it’s perceived… Neat little shortcut I picked up.”

“Can I ask…” Gerard hesitated, “Well, _why?_ ”

The Wizard furrowed his brow.

“Takes way less magic.” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  

“No. Why _me?_ ” Gerard laughed, “Why Frank?”

“ _Ah._ ” The Wizard said, eyes lighting up, “Of course.”

“I don’t need an explanation, but Frank’s gonna want one.” Gerard said, “If he ever talks to me again. You might’ve wrecked my band. I don’t know yet.”  

“It’s… so, um… I’m going to school for magic.” The Wizard said, “It’s like, the community college equivalent of Hogwarts, I shit you not. And we’re supposed to focus on the thing we’re the worst at. And I royally sucked at love in my last life, so I’m trying my hand at matchmaking. I’m probably going to pass the class, thanks to you guys.”

Gerard blinked. The Wizard Saporta had been playing cupid - _With Gerard’s band._

“But…” Gerard said, “You can’t just-”

“I can’t create feelings out of thin air, Gee Way. You’re right.” The Wizard Saporta said matter-of-factly, “I just… amplified feelings that were already there.”

Gerard wouldn’t allow himself to process that idea. Not right now.

“There’s more important things than _love_ in play here.” Gerard backtracked, and maybe yeah, okay, he was a little angry, “Like, everyone else’s _future_ . My _brother._ You could’ve _wrecked my band._ ”

“But I didn’t! Just skip the worry and self doubt.” The Wizard said, putting his hands up defensively, “It doesn’t suit you.”

“I’ve seen the future... Or, well, I haven’t. But my buddy Travie can.” The Wizard added, “That’s his _thing_ , since he was so bad with foresight in his last life. He said this all works out fine. You. Frank. The band. All of it. You guys are goin’ places, my man. _Together._ ”

“The love potion...” Gerard pressed on, shaking his head like it would keep this new information from sinking in, “How did you know Frank would look at _me?_ ”

“I didn’t.” The Wizard grinned, and it was a malicious grin, “But imagine if he’d fallen in love with anyone else. You would’ve _flipped out._ You would’ve done anything to stop it. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have, Gee.”

“The protection chain was to keep Mikey out of it.” The Wizard added, “That could’ve gotten ugly.”

“Frank doesn’t feel anything for me.” Gerard defended easily, “Not like that.”

“You’ve been in a band together for how many years now? Have you ever seen him with anyone?” The Wizard asked, waggling his eyebrows, “You’ve never asked yourself _why_?”

“The band takes up most of our time.” Gerard said. He wasn’t going to be manipulated further.

“Ray finds time.” The Wizard shrugged, “Even _Bob_ gets laid…”

“Don’t make me think about that.” Gerard grimaced.

“I’m just saying.” The Wizard defended, “It’s funny you never noticed…”

Gerard stood up.

“Later Gee Way.” The Wizard said, waving his fingers, “Don’t forget to use protection.”

 

Gerard practically ran, pulling his hood tight around his chin to keep himself subtle as he made his getaway. He’d meant to give Frank space, but now he had to find him.

A bassline thrummed out of the sound system as Gerard pulled out his phone. He wasn’t even surprised when Frank didn’t answer his call.

Gerard did run then. He wasn’t sure where. He just knew he could cover more ground if he ran. The crowds thinned towards the rides. He passed the roller coaster, the snow cone stand, the ring toss, the squirt gun horse races.

He passed a fortune teller booth, and then a corn dog stand, and then he promptly ran out of breath.

A cheap-looking pop-up haunted house on a 16 wheeler stood beside him, looking ominous with it’s lights off. All the other rides were lit up and hauling passengers around at dizzying speeds.

“Gee Way!” Gerard heard the wizard call. He did a full 360 spin, panting, in search of the source of the Wizard’s voice. He thought he might puke.

The Wizard was standing at the top of the steps of the haunted house, untying the rope to open the ride. His clothes had changed. He was wearing a crisp blue polo shirt with the carnival logo on it. A yellow visor hung off his head. His cheeks still sparkled just the same.

“How did you-?” Gerard panted abortively, hands on his knees.

“Lookin’ for somebody?” Saporta grinned.

“Where is he?” Gerard wheezed, only a touch impolite.

“He’s in here.” The Wizard said, sticking a thumb in the direction of the entrance.

“I don’t believe you.” Gerard said, wiping his forehead off on his sleeve.

“Believe me.” The Wizard scoffed, “I put him in a time out. He came here looking for a fight. Said some pretty mean stuff about my face, too. I locked him in there to teach him some manners. He’s not allowed to come out until he apologizes.”

Gerard glared, taking the steps two at a time.

The Wizard was taller than Gerard, if only by a few inches, but even so, Gerard wasn’t about to fight him. Not after the incident with the handcuffs.

“I was only trying to help!” The Wizard complained.

“I hope you _never_ graduate from your stupid wizard college.” Gerard seethed.

“Ouch, Gee Way!” Saporta squeaked, “Fuckin **_ouch!_ ** And here I thought Mikeyway was the cold-hearted one.”  

Gerard was already pushing through the curtains into the haunted house, leaving the wizard yelling about how the ride technically costed 5 tickets to enter.

 

It was normal haunted house shit. In the first hallway the faces in all the pictures moved. Their eyes followed Gerard as he tried to not trip over himself and faceplant in the dim neon lighting. Disembodied laughing came from speakers in the ceiling.

The next room had model tables suspended from the ceiling, floating back and forth on tracks. They got smaller and smaller the higher they hung, making the room look taller than it really was. A wooden crate in the corner thumped back and forth, rattling its chains like a great beast was locked inside. Gerard assumed it wasn’t real, but he didn’t want to stick around to find out.

The floors rattled. He found himself walking into a mirror maze.

“Frank!” Gerard called out. He pulled out his phone to check. No calls or texts.

“Frankie!” Gerard tried again, “Where are you?!”

He walked right into his own reflection.

“ _Fuck._ ” Gerard hissed.

 

“Gee?” Frank’s voice intoned.

“Frank!” Gerard panted, walking into a pane of glass he hadn’t seen, “It’s me! Where are you!”

“No fucking clue!” Frank said, “Isn’t that the whole fucking point of this place?”

He rounded a corner and there Frank was, hugging his knees on the floor, staring miserably at his own reflection. Gerard had never been so excited to see anyone frown in all his life.

Gerard’s heart fluttered as their eyes met. He swallowed hard, and bravely took the couple of steps that separated them.

He was on his knees, in front of Frank, in no time.

“I wasn’t avoiding you.” Frank smiled sadly, “I was just so fuckin’ excited to go pee by myself... And I was totally avoiding you. ”

Gerard couldn’t help but laugh. He was so relieved. Frank was still _Frank._ He wanted to close the rest of the distance and kiss Frank all over.

“I love you, but I never want to be handcuffed to you ever again.” Frank said.

His eyes widened as he realized what he’d said. He looked down at the floor and sighed.

“ _Frank…_ ” Gerard breathed.

“ _I didn’t mean-_ ” Frank faltered quietly, “I’m pretty sure the spell’s gone.”

“Oh.” Gerard mumbled.

 

They were quiet then. Gerard settled on the floor with his back to the mirror. He glanced at his own reflection behind Frank, refracting endlessly behind them in every direction.

“Frankie…” Gerard said. The words were already forming in his head. He’d make an excuse for last night. He’d forget about it, if Frank would.

“ _Don’t._ ” Frank begged.

“Why haven’t you been with anyone since we started the band?” Gerard asked. Things couldn’t be worse. There was no harm in asking.

“I’ve been with _plenty of people._ ” Frank snapped, crossing his arms, obviously offended, “Not my fault you didn’t _notice._ ”

“Yeah...” Gerard waved him off, “Stupid question.”

“No, wait, why?” Frank asked.

“The Wizard-”

“What did he say to you?” Frank asked immediately, “You can’t believe anything he told you, Gee. He just wants to get in your head so he can fuck us up even more.”

“So you haven’t been into me this entire time?” Gerard asked. He had to know.

“ _Of course not._ ” Frank said.

 

Gerard let his eyes fall closed. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised The Wizard would lie about that. His explanation had made so much sense in the moment.

 

“Well…” Frank mumbled, “Okay. Maybe a little...”

Gerard looked up.

“Okay… Maybe more than a little.” Frank concluded, “But that doesn’t matter, Gee. The _band._ ”

“The band.” Gerard agreed. Wholeheartedly. _Their band._

 

He heard Frank move. When he opened his eyes, Frank had crawled across the space and was in the process of rearranging himself next to Gerard. He got comfortable, and rested his head on Gerard’s shoulder.

Gerard glanced up at their reflections, side-by-side.

The faint echo of the maniacal laughter coming from the speakers in the ceiling in the next room bled into the hall of mirrors.

“How long have you been in here?” Gerard asked.

“Hour or so, I think? I left my phone on the bus.” Frank said, “Couldn’t even call you guys for backup.”

Frank nuzzled Gerard’s shoulder, shifting his weight to lean more comfortably against the singer.

“I don’t mind so much.” Frank said, “It’s nice and quiet. No fans. No beer cans.”  

Gerard smiled.

“So if we weren’t in the most awesome band ever together…” Frank mused.

“Yeah?” Gerard asked.

“ _Yeah..._ ” Frank sighed.  
When Gerard’s eyes met Frank’s in the mirror, he saw the insinuation. If they weren’t in a band together… they’d be free to pick up wherever they’d left off last night. But being as things were Gerard would just let it go. Being close to Frank was so much better than “ _being close_ to Frank.”

 

Gerard’s ass was asleep by the time Mikey was calling to check in on him. Frank rolled away and stretched out on the floor as Gerard answered the phone.

“Hey.” Gerard said.

“You find Frank yet?” the younger Way asked.

“Uh. Yeah, actually.” Gerard said, “We’re locked in the haunted house ride behind the roller coasters...”

“So you found The Wizard too?” Mikey asked.

“Yeah.” Gerard said.

“Do you need rescue?” Mikey asked.

“Maybe later.” Gerard said, “I think we’re good for now.”

“Did you know the Wizard is in a band?” Ray asked, voice faint from his proximity to Mikey’s phone.

“What band?” Gerard asked.

“Midtown. They’re playing the carnival tomorrow.” Mikey said, “He’s a _singer. He sings._ ”  

“Huh.” Gerard huffed, “Didn’t really get a ‘singer’ vibe from him.”

“Are you sure you don’t need rescue?” Mikey asked.

“Nah. We’re good. I still wanna check out the rest of the haunted house.” Gerard said, “I’ll come find you in a bit.”

“Try not to walk into any handcuffs on your way back.” Mikey warned.

“That’s not funny.” Gerard said.

“Yet.” Mikey retorted and hung up.

 

Gerard slid his phone back in his pocket and looked over at Frank. He was curled up on the floor, gazing back at Gerard, with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Gerard’s heart fluttered again. Frank had totally been staring.

“There’s really not much else to this place.” Frank said, “There’s a slide you have to go down. And moving floors. And a tunnel of love.”

“Thanks for the spoilers.” Gerard grumbled.

Frank slid his hands out of his pockets and something small and light skidded across the mirrored floors.

Frank groaned.

“What the fuck is that?” Gerard asked, reaching for the small, shiny packet. It was a condom. Gerard furrowed his brow and looked back at Frank.

“What the fuck?” Gerard asked, editing his original question.

Frank’s hands slid over his face, pulling down at the bottoms of his eyelids, contorting his face.

“That wizard bitch must’ve put another spell on me when he shoved me in here. Every time I stick my hand in my pocket I pull a condom out. They literally just form in my hand. I pulled out like 6 in the room with the tables. See?”

Gerard watched as Frank stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out another condom.  

“Huh.” Gerard bit out.

“Like, what a useless fucking spell?” Frank said, “Why can’t I pull out weed? Or guitar picks? Guitar picks would be fucking _sick._ The fans would fucking love that.”

“You’ll have to tell the Wizard.” Gerard sighed, “He definitely owes you one.”  

“Fuck no. This better wear off with time like the other spells did.” Frank complained.

Gerard was totally staring at Frank’s mouth. Now that he knew where it had been and what it was capable of, he had questions. They were locked in a haunted house. And Frank could magically make condoms appear in his hands. Gerard wondered if anything would come out of his pockets if he reached in. He tried to subtly reach into the back pocket of his jeans on the side that Frank couldn’t see from where he was laying on the metal flooring.

Nothing. Just his wallet.

“Gerard?” Frank asked.

“What?” Gerard asked back.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” Frank asked.

“Uh…” Gerard faltered, “Useless fucking spell?”

Frank rolled his eyes and got to his feet. He reached out a hand to help Gerard up.

“I _said…_ ” Frank started over, “If Saporta’s a real magician. Maybe Houdini was a real one too.”

“Of course Houdini was a real magician.” Gerard said automatically. That wasn’t up for debate.

“No, like, with magic powers.” Frank said, pulling Gerard along by the hand.

 

Frank let go of Gerard’s hand and jumped into the mouth of a huge painted snake on the wall.

“Frank?!” Gerard shouted. He leaned into the mouth. It was a long tunnel down into dark nothingness.

“Down here, Gee!” Frank called, echoing out of the snake’s mouth, “You gotta slide down.”

Gerard hesitated for a moment before crawling into the snakes mouth. He held his breath as he slid down into the dark. He shout out at the bottom of the slide, clipping Frank’s leg on his way out, and sending them both tumbling to the ground.

“Warn a guy.” Frank breathed, “ _Fuck._ ”  

He rolled over and groaned. Gerard sat up and looked around the room, trying to figure out how Frank had gotten back up into the hall of mirrors.

Frank got to his feet and pulled Gerard up. They quickly made it through a room with floors that moved unpredictably. Frank held Gerard’s hand tighter to keep him steady. He seemed to have figured out how to maneuver over the tiles without tripping on them.  

The tunnel of love was an actual tunnel, with bloody hearts hanging from the ceiling, and equally bloody red lighting. The floors slowly moved, like a conveyor belt, which Gerard found some way to almost trip over. He saw the glow of the Exit sign at the end of the tunnel.

He startled when Frank leaned in and pecked his cheek. He turned his face away to hide the blush that  crept up his cheeks when they pushed through the exit doors. The doors squeaked loudly from misuse. Gerard had to squint against the bright of the cloudless sky.  

“I knew he’d unlock the doors for you.” Frank said, “That’s probably what this whole thing was about. He probably just has a stupid crush on you.”

“Ah, well, it’s not mutual.” Gerard said. He shot a backwards glance in the direction of the entrance to the ride. The wizard was long gone. The feeling that they were being watched still lingered.

 

“I got kind of used to holding your hand all the time...” Frank said casually, lacing his fingers in Gerard’s, “Maybe… we should taper off gradually, you know? Rather than quitting cold turkey.”

“Yeah… Okay.” Gerard agreed, giving Frank’s hand a little squeeze.

~

 

There was a hesitancy to the guys. Gerard noticed it, long after the awkwardness of the week’s events had subsided. Fucking Placebo was out there at the carnival somewhere, and yet, the band had resolved to grab a case of beer and drink on the bus, like any other night on the road.

Frank had locked eyes with Gerard when the case of beer had showed up, but Gerard had just waved him off.

Frank had showed the rest of the band his new (hopefully temporary) magic trick. The condoms were never-ending. The forlorn punk frowned into the huge pile of them on the small table before him. At some point Ray had pointed out that they’d make excellent poker chips. Gerard had had to stick around for awhile to watch that.

 

He went out for a cigarette when the stale mix of beer cans and ashtrays was starting to get for him. The chase for fresh air between puffs of smoke turned into a walk. Gerard found himself wandering the fairgrounds.

The lights were off. The rides were all shut down. Thick, rubber-treated canvas flaps covered the insides of a carousel he passed. The carnival games were all boarded up with painted plywood to match their themes. Diamond rings for the ring toss. Horsemen for the squirt gun horse races…

Aside from the occasional passerby, the place was a ghost town. Gerard felt peaceful and emptied out.

He wandered past the entrance to a beer garden. It was the first place he’d found that was still open. A hot-dog cart buzzed away in the center of the picnic tables. The smell of burning onions drifted across the beaten-down grass pathways. Gerard continued on.

For once, he just enjoyed being alone. It must’ve been the feeling Frank had been chasing. Gerard felt like he got it now. He was free to do what he wanted, without answering to anybody. He’d taken the feeling for granted before the cuffs, but he felt like he knew better now.

 

He stopped walking when his phone buzzed.

It was Frank. Of course it was Frank.

“Gee. Are you okay?” Frank slurred as soon as Gerard answered.

“Yeah. Just on a walk.” Gerard promised.

“Alright.” Frank sighed, “Maybe just… tell someone where you’re going next time? We were starting to worry the wizard had gotten to you again.”  
Gerard had been so caught up in his own head, he hadn’t considered that anyone might wonder where he was.

“I’ll come back soon.” Gerard promised.

“Or don’t.” Frank suggested.

“You wanna come find me?” Gerard asked.

“Sleepy.” Frank said. Resigned.

Gerard found himself smiling, listening to Frank fight Bob as Bob gave him shit for referring to The Wizard as ‘The Wizard’ and not ‘That Wizard Bitch’ as he’d been saying for most of the week.  

 

The call dropped. Frank’s phone was a potential casualty in the fray.

 

Gerard felt himself being pulled back to the bus. It was like he couldn’t walk fast enough all of a sudden. It wasn’t that anything felt _wrong_. Quite the opposite, actually. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to be closer to the band. He needed to be closer to Frank.

Most of the lights were off in the bus by the time Gerard managed to find his way back. Mikey was busy talking on his phone with a stupid grin plastered across his face. Toro had curled up in front of the xBox again, controller still in-hand as he gently snored. Frank and Bob were M.I.A.

Gerard shuffled back to the bunks, feeling heavy. He squawked when a hand grabbed his shoulder. A quick spin and he found a familiar tattooed hand grasping at the empty air, searching for him.

“Gee?” Frank croaked.

“Hey.” Gerard said.

“Was waiting for you to come back...” Frank explained, groggy.

He pulled back the curtain for his bunk and grinned at Gerard.

“C’mere.” he requested. His eyes drifted from Gerard’s eyes, down to his mouth, and back up.

Frank was obviously drunk. If the slightly dazed look hadn’t been a dead giveaway, the smell of beer wafted off of him as he sighed.

“It’s okay. I’m back.” Gerard soothed. Tucking Frank’s wandering hand back into his own space bubble.

“ _But Gee…_ ” Frank said.

“I know, Frankie.” Gerard shushed. He didn’t know. He had no fucking clue, actually.

Frank reached out his hand again. Before the punk could re-anchor his fingers in the fabric of Gerard’s hoodie, Gerard ducked down into his bunk.

“Gee.” Frank said again, leaning over the edge of the bunk. His hair dangled straight towards the floor, but from Gerard’s angle, it looked like he’d been comically electrocuted.

“You’re gonna fall and break your neck.” Gerard warned, worriedly, “Or your wrist. Please get down from there. We all sort of need your wrists to work tomorrow.”

Frank gave Gerard a confused look.

“‘We?’” Frank repeated, “Who’s ‘ _we?_ ’ You’re the only one I gave a handjob to as far as I know. Why would anyone else care?”

Gerard’s eyes grew wide.

“To play guitar.” Gerard said, his voice gaining an octave in hysteric disbelief, “I need your wrists to work _so you can play guitar for me_ . While I sing. In _our band_ , Frank.”

“You say that like I’ve ever played guitar for anyone else.” Frank scoffed, attempting to right himself by shifting more of his weight off to one side.

It wasn’t a far drop, but it still sounded like it hurt. Frank’s knee connected with the floor, rather than his head, or his wrist, as Gerard had predicted. He gripped the ladder to pull himself off the carpet.

Technically Frank had played guitar for other bands. He’d been a band before My Chemical Romance. And a band before that. And one before that, actually.

But apparently reality had been cancelled for the moment.

“I’m okay!” Frank huffed triumphantly, and bent down to crawl into Gerard’s bunk.

Gerard scooted back as much as he could, helplessly eyeing Frank. A few inches later and his back was against the interior wall.

“When we first started tour, I wanted top bunk.” Frank said, “But now I think I want the bottom bunk. I’m getting pretty tired of falling out of my bunk.”

“We could… _trade?_ ” Gerard suggested. It seemed only fair the more regularly sober of the two of them should take the top bunk.

“Or, we could share?” Frank flirted matter-of-factly.

Gerard had to find some way to press pause. He couldn’t have Frank coming onto him so _obviously_. Gerard could hear the faint mumble of his younger brother still talking on the phone across the bus somewhere. Ray was likely still asleep, but that still left Bob.

The universe was just that cruel, it seemed, because in that exact moment, their drummer walked past them on his way to the back lounge.

“‘Night, Gee.” Bob said casually, tossing Gerard a smirk, “‘Night, Frank.”

Gerard gave Bob a pleading look, silently begging for his help with their drunk and lusty rhythm guitarist.

“Goodnight Bob.” Frank sing-songed.

Frank opened his mouth to yell something else, but Gerard clamped a hand over his mouth to keep him from saying _anything_ else.

Frank poked his tongue at Gerard’s fingers until he moved them away.

“Being handcuffed to me for days on end wasn’t _kinky enough_ for you?” Frank practically _announced._

“Shut up!” Gerard squeaked.

“Make me.” Frank smirked.

Gerard was going to die and go to hell and Frank was going to be the one to send him there.

“You’re lucky I’m tired.” Frank informed, readjusting himself, clearly getting comfortable. He was taking up most of the bunk space, sprawled out next to Gerard with one of his legs hanging off the edge.

His eyes fluttered closed and he huffed out a deep contented sigh.

Gerard blinked, staring helplessly at his bandmate as he tried to work through what he was supposed to do. His brain was still kind of short-circuiting.  

“Um…” Gerard faltered meekly, frozen stiff.

 

Frank cracked open one eye, in Gerard’s direction. His thin, dark brow arched in unison. He was so hot. Gerard was so _fucked._  

“So…” Frank said, “I kinda got used to this… I can’t get comfortable without your snoring.”

“I don’t snore.” Gerard protested.

“Keep telling yourself that.” Frank grinned, shutting his eye and crossing his arms behind his head.

Gerard let himself relax a little. He settled a hand on Frank’s stomach, over his t-shirt.

This was fine. It didn’t have to mean anything. They’d slept in the same bed plenty of times.

Gerard closed his eyes and let himself relax even more. Frank’s hand covered his. Frank was warm. He made Gerard feel warm. It didn’t have to mean anything. It _didn’t._

Frank’s words were still echoing in his head, though.  

_Keep._

_Telling._

_Yourself._

_That._

 

~

 

Gerard woke early. At least, he figured it was still early by the silence on the bus. Frank was still fast asleep next to him. The punk must’ve pulled the curtain closed at some point, judging by the skew of the light.

Gerard had an arm slung around Frank’s middle to keep him from rolling the fuck off the bunk, like he’d come so close to doing at least twice. Gerard would’ve been more bothered by it, if it hadn’t made Frank inch closer to him every time.

Frank nestled closer then, leaving no space between them. He was so warm. It didn’t bother Gerard in the slightest that he’d wrapped himself in most of Gerard’s thin blanket. The heat he gave off was consolation enough.  
Gerard rested his face against Frank’s t-shirt and sighed, letting himself take in Frank’s scent, his warmth, his actuality. It was almost too much for Gerard. If he admitted he wanted this, there would be no take-backs.

He couldn’t say he wanted this. All he could say was that he didn’t _not_ want it. He pulled his face away and tried to put some space between them, but he found it near impossible in the small bunk. The bunks on the tourbus definitely hadn’t been designed with conflicting emotions in mind.

Frank made a small noise in his sleep and turned onto his back. He shot a glance over in Gerard’s direction, eyes still fluttery with sleep.

“Oh. Hey.” he yawned.

“Hi.” Gerard answered. He sounded as conflicted as he felt. He was sure the look was written all over his face.

“Need. Water.” Frank announced and then rolled out of the bunk. It wasn’t graceful by any means. His foot landed with a thud, rattling the doors of the storage cabinets surrounding the bunks.

Frank cursed under his breath and dragged himself towards the kitchenette. Gerard could picture the flat of water bottles sitting on the small table, room temperature.

 

Frank came back with two of the bottles. One, he’d half drained, and the other he dropped onto the blanket next to Gerard.

“Help me find the showers.” Frank requested, all conspiratorial, voice still thick with sleep and dry from the hangover. He reached his hand into his pocket and flicked a condom packet at Gerard’s face. He missed by a few inches. It hit Gerard’s neck instead and slid off into the crack between the mattress and the wall.

Gerard pulled his phone out from under his pillow. It wasn’t even 10am yet. He blinked, trying to decipher what Frank meant. He wondered if it was too late to pretend he was still asleep.

But then it clicked. There was a stadium across the parking lots from the carnival (Where they’d be performing in about twelve fucking hours). There were probably showers. But there definitely wasn’t coffee over there.

Gerard hadn’t even meant to vocalize the need for coffee, but apparently he had, because Frank smiled knowingly.

“We’ll get you coffee, don’t even worry.” Frank promised, shooting Gerard a crooked smile as he zipped his hoodie all the way up past the collar of his t-shirt. He pulled his hood on and grabbed the water bottle, still laying next to Gerard.

“Come on.” Frank urged, uncapping the bottle and starting to drain the liquid.

Gerard groaned and started to fumble out of his bunk. Only Frank could coax him out this early without a cup of coffee already in his hand. It wasn’t like Frank had some kind of special power over Gerard, it was just that no one else on earth could get away with the shit Frank pulled.

He sat on the edge of his bunk and blinked away sleep, watching Frank stuff towels and clean clothes into a backpack. Gerard handed him some clean clothes of his own, earning himself another dazzling, hungover smile from Frank.

 

Gerard squinted against the bright sunlight, stumbling after Frank. He tripped over nothing on the pavement within the first ten feet.

“There’s probably a place with coffee open.” Frank was saying, “You know, for the carnies.”

“You think carnies drink coffee?” Gerard asked hopefully.

“No.” Frank giggled, “But I had to bait you with something, didn’t I?”

Gerard shot Frank a pained look before glancing around at all the closed white tents.

Carnival staff and vendors were starting to trickle in. They passed a funnel cake stand already open for breakfast. No coffee. It seemed cruel and unusual to serve anything without coffee this early. Gerard patted down his pockets. He didn’t even have his wallet anyways, which meant he was officially up Shit Creek without a paddle.

They passed the espresso stand Gerard had hit up the day before. It was closed. Gerard briefly considered breaking in and shoving a handful of espresso beans in his mouth.

Frank just smiled and pulled Gerard along like it was nothing, completely oblivious to the betrayal he’d caused.

Frank walked with so much spring in his step. Gerard envied him for being so perky without the caffeine crutch.

Frank reached into his pocket and flicked out a condom. The package skidded across the pavement.

“How many days did it take that other spell to wear off?” Frank asked morosely.

“Uh.” Gerard supplied helpfully.

“I guess this is convenient if I ever get lost…” Frank said, reaching into his pocket and dropping another condom onto the cement, “Like a trail of fucking breadcrumbs. Actually, I’m kinda surprised there isn’t a porno that starts like this.”

Gerard watched as Frank dropped another one onto the ground.

“There probably is, now that I think about it.” Frank mused, glancing over at Gerard, “Toro would know.”

Gerard frowned.

“So Hansel and Gretel were just… _littering?_ ” Gerard asked.

“Assholes.” Frank laughed.

Either the stadium wasn’t as far as it had seemed, or  Gerard was just reasonably delirious. When he turned to see how far they’d gone, the rows of tour busses shimmered in the distance.

When Frank had suggested they find the showers, Gerard had figured Frank had a plan to get inside the stadium. It turned out he really fucking didn’t. The punk tried a few doors to no avail. Gerard was miserable and tired and ready to fall asleep against the bricks on the outside of the building. He watched as Frank pulled instead of pushing and the side door swung open with a loud creak.

“A-ha!” Frank whooped, holding the door open for Gerard like a perfect gentleman.

“After you.” Frank bowed, waving a hand inside.

“Hell no. You first.” Gerard said.

“Suit yourself.” Frank humphed, dragging Gerard inside after him.

They wandered down a too-bright hallway. The fluorescent lights buzzed above them. The place was completely silent. This wasn’t the first time they’d done something stupid and desperate in the name of personal hygiene. The Warped Tour summers had been the worst back in those early days. It bothered Frank more than it ever had Gerard.

“So like, if you were a shower, where would you be?” Frank asked quietly, leaning in towards Gerard as they passed a janitorial station.

A plaque on the wall pointed towards to the arena beyond the double doors. A sign below it said “Locker Rooms.”

Frank reached out and poked the “locker rooms” sign below that.

“Jackpot.” he whispered.

 

The stadium’s hallways definitely weren’t heated. Even in a hoodie Gerard was still cold and getting a little shivery without the heat of the sun at his back. He followed closely behind Frank, checking over his shoulder periodically to make sure they hadn’t been discovered.

The locker rooms were dismal, all chipped paint and oppressive lighting. Frank’s backpack echoed as it hit the tile floor. There were two rows of showers. Twenty in total.

Frank stepped into one of the stalls and began to tweak the knobs experimentally. Water shot out of the shower head.

“Too much pressure is better than no pressure.” Frank said optimistically, watching the water bolt against the wall.

He turned to look at Gerard.

“So…” He said, “I’d invite you to join me, but I’m afraid this has gotta be... _all business._ ”

Gerard’s surprise caught in his throat and he held his breath to keep from choking on it. He nodded at Frank, eyes wide.

Frank snapped the curtain shut and started undressing. He tossed his t-shirt onto the floor next to his backpack.

“I forgot shampoo.” He complained.

Still shivery, Gerard selected a shower a few stalls down, across the row from Frank. He snapped the curtain shut before peeling his shirt off. A brief whiff of his armpit was all the confirmation he needed. _All business, indeed._

He kicked his shoes out of the stall and shucked his jeans off.

The water blasted out, freezing cold and painfully fast. Gerard yelped as it hit his arm. He fumbled with the knob to try and get it warmer. The water gradually turned tepid, then steamy. Gerard was so cold he’d crawl into the pipes and down into the boiler to get warmer if he could.

Eventually the shivering stopped. Soapless, he ran his hands over his pale skin, rubbing off a week’s worth of magic and conflicting emotions and sexual frustration. He ran his hands through his hair, letting it all wash away and circle down the drain. His fingers circled the wrist that had been chained to Frank’s.

 

They could go back to the way they’d been before all this. Frank’s humming on the other side of the room made Gerard sure of this.

And now that Gerard was in the shower, he didn’t want to get out. He didn’t want to step out into a world where he couldn’t have Frank drunkenly curling up to him on the bus every other night. He’d gotten used to it, too. And he _liked it_. He wanted it.

 

Gerard stood under the spray for a few more minutes, sulking and confused, before he killed the water pressure.

He poked his head out from behind the shower curtain.

“Uh. Frank?” Gerard asked, “Please tell me you packed two towels.”

Frank stepped into his line of view from the stall, dripping wet and already half-dressed, with a mischievous grin on his face.

“What would you do if I hadn’t?” Frank asked, holding the towel in his hands hostage.

“ _Please._ ” Gerard begged, eyeing the fabric. He was already starting to shiver again.

 

Frank stepped in closer, still holding Gerard’s towel close to himself. His eyes were searching Gerard’s, back and forth. He was distracted. Or, distracted enough.

Frank’s hair was dripping. He held his breath as he stared at Gerard. For a moment, Gerard thought they might kiss. He might’ve had the patience to try if he wasn’t so fucking cold.

“Here you go.” Frank said, completely unfazed. Then he took a step back.

He kept his gaze politely above Gerard’s shoulders. Gerard nearly dropped the towel onto the wet tiles as he considered Frank, already half-dressed in boxers and a t-shirt. Frank padded at his hair with the towel around his shoulders. He bit his lip, looking like he wanted to say something.

Gerard waited him out. He wrapped the towel around his waist, and stepped out of the stall, looking for Frank’s backpack. Frank moved on to making faces in the mirror as Gerard rummaged through the clothes they’d packed.

“So uh…” Frank faltered, clearing his throat somewhere behind Gerard, “I was kinda wondering… You obviously talked to the wizard more than I could stand to… “

“Yeah...” Gerard said, pulling his t-shirt over his head.

“What did he say?” Frank asked.

Gerard briefly considered teasing Frank for being curious, but decided against it. He slid his boxers on up under the towel and then unwrapped it from around his waist.

“Something about a degree in matchmaking.” Gerard summarized to the tiled wall in front of him.

“From his stupid fucking wizard college?” Frank asked.

Gerard spun around and nodded at Frank.

“He told you about that?” Gerard asked.

“We talked.” Frank shrugged, “I played like five different drinking games with that guy.”

“That’s all he said, though?” Frank asked.

Gerard shrugged.

“Cause I feel like trying to get us together is cheating?” Frank scoffed, “I mean, I’m in a band with you which is definitely like ten times harder than dating you. Not that being in a band with you is hard.”

Frank sighed in frustration, trying to decide how to backtrack.

“Dating me would be easy?” Gerard asked skeptically.

“There’s just a lot more at stake than if we were in a relationship.” Frank tried, “Contracts. Money? Shared creative property? I have to see your face every day for weeks straight at a time. I don’t mind. I like it, even. But that seems like cheating to me. Are you following?”

“I think so.” Gerard said, narrowing his eyes in thought.

“It’s an easy A. We’re already kinda compatible, you know?” Frank went on, “I wanna talk to the school.”

“You do?” Gerard asked, “I thought you were done with magic?”

“I am. But this was a lot of bullshit.” Frank said, pulling on his skinny jeans. The pockets were turned out, and when he reached in to push them down, he pulled two more condoms out, one in each hand. Frank threw the packets on the floor and blinked in silent fury.

Gerard sat down on the thin wooden bench in between sets of lockers and regarded him with a cautious look.  

“I’m okay with all of it, now that it’s over.” Gerard said mildly, staring at the floor, “Nothing bad happened. No one got hurt.”

“ _Gee._ ” Frank sighed. He crossed the room and sat next to Gerard on the bench. The old wood bowed under their shared weight.

“What happened the other night…” Frank paused, “I didn’t mean to say that what we did was bullshit. I meant... everything else.”

Gerard nodded, not really sure what he was supposed to say to that.

“I feel like I keep saying all the wrong shit to you. I’m not good at this.” Frank said, running a hand through his wet hair to train it in the direction he liked.

“There was something he said that made it sorta click for me...” Gerard admitted quietly, “He asked me to imagine what it would be like if you were in love with someone else. _Anyone else._ He said I would’ve done anything to stop it…”

Gerard bit his lip, not wanting to admit what he was admitting. Frank’s face was curious and open. He was so beautiful like this, anticipating, hanging off of Gerard’s words.

“And the more I think about it, the more I realize he was right.” Gerard said, letting himself feel the words on his tongue, “I don’t want you to be in love with anyone else. Not if I have to watch. I don’t care what happens when we’re not on tour anymore, but I can’t look at you in love with someone else every day. I don’t know what that means, but that’s how I feel. So...”  

“ _Gee._ ” Frank said again, voice low and pained.

Frank’s lips found Gerard’s. Gerard grabbed the edge of the bench to keep himself from tipping back with the force of Frank diving into him. He kissed back, full of hesitation and uncertainty, but even so it was one hell of a kiss. Frank broke off and pressed another kiss to Gerard’s cheek, chaste and polite.

Gerard felt a blush bloom over his cheeks.

“We’ll take it slow.” Frank promised, resting his forehead against Gerard’s.

“Like, so fucking slow.” Gerard agreed.

  
They gathered the rest of their things and snuck back out through the hallways, keeping close to one another.

Things had started to pick up outside. Half of the tents were open for business. The music from the various carnival games melted together into a muddy buzz. Gerard was literally starting to get a headache from the lack of caffeine.

They wandered back behind the booths with wafts of curly fries and strawberry shortcake occasionally overwhelming their senses.

Finally, Gerard’s eyes landed on a coffee stand. He glanced over at Frank, who’d already spotted it apparently, because he was grinning and shaking his head as he looked back at Gerard.

“I’m buying.” Frank said, “My treat for waking you up so early.”

“By that logic you, and my brother, should buy me coffee for the rest of my fucking life.” Gerard pointed out.

“Uh.” Frank faltered, plucking Gerard’s sunglasses off the top of his wet hair and sliding them onto his face, “One morning at a time. How ‘bout that?”

Frank snaked his arm around Gerard’s while he considered the menu. Their fingers laced together easily and without much thought. Gerard already knew what he wanted. Quad shot latte, extra dry. He acted like he had to think about it, letting himself feel their arms intertwined.

Frank’s order was a little more complicated - involving caramel and soy and and dairy-free whipped topping. He was still holding on to Gerard’s hand as they waited for the barista to make their drinks.

“Well, don’t you two look cozy.” a familiar voice sing-songed, “Putting that never-ending condom spell to good use, I hope?”  

 

Gerard glanced up to see none other than the Grand Wizard Saporta, pulling down the straps of a fake beard behind the coffee counter. His sunglasses were comically giant, hiding the entire upper half of his face. He handed Gerard his latte and spun around to make Frank’s drink.

When Gerard glanced at Frank, Frank’s face was terrifyingly expressionless. His eyes were fixed on the wizard. Saporta just hummed and drizzled caramel into a cup.

“That’s got to be a food service violation.” Frank said neutrally, eyeing the fake beard.

“This old thing?” the wizard asked. He waved a hand and the fake beard disappeared into thin air.  

They both watched as the wizard poured steamed soy into Frank’s espresso. Gerard was frozen, and confused as to how this guy had time to go to wizard college, be a barista, and sing and play guitar in a successful band. Gerard barely just had the ‘singing in a band’ part down.

“No human teeth this time.” The Wizard quipped, setting Frank’s drink on the counter, “Just how you like it.”

“So who fucked the handcuffs off who?” he asked casually.

Gerard’s ‘Frank’ senses were tingling. He set his precious latte down just in time to grab Frank around the waist before he could leap across the counter.

“Down boy!” The wizard yelped, “Gerard, control your bitch.”

“Watch your mouth, Saporta.” Gerard warned, trying to tighten his hold on Frank.

Frank, it turned out, was part snake, because he had no problem slithering out of Gerard’s hold and onto the counter of the coffee booth. He made a reach for the back of Saporta’s shirt.

The Wizard was already shimmying out of the booth, ditching his apron in the breeze and dashing off, leaving Frank yelling obscenities behind the espresso machine. The poor girl keeping watch over the cash register looked horrified. Frank was yelling about ‘choking that wizard bitch to death’ by ‘shoving used condoms down your fucking throat until you suffocate, motherfucker.’ Gerard was maybe a little horrified himself.

He had given up on trying to control Frank and opted instead for saving their drinks from certain death. He kissed the rim of his latte and savored the steam as he watched Frank crawl back out of the coffee stand. Frank stood there, trying to catch his breath and wiping his hands off on his jeans.

“Uh. Sorry about that.” Gerard said to the girl behind the counter as Frank wiped his hands off on his jeans.

“You should consider firing him.” Gerard suggested to the girl, “Though, I gotta say, this latte isn’t bad.”

“That guy doesn’t work here.” she said, shrugging, “I have no idea who he was...”

“Well, you’re lucky.” Gerard said.

“So fucking lucky.” Frank agreed, voice full of venom.  
~

 

Frank was silent and stewing the entire way back to the bus. Gerard was feeling sort of chipper with the help of the espresso. The soapless shower had also improved his mood far more than it should have.

The rest of the band was awake when they got back. No one said a word about their matching wet hair, or the fact that they’d gotten coffee together.  
Ray just rounded everyone up for a much needed band practice. It took them forever to tune. They only got through two songs before it was clear their timing was a little off. Ray and Frank broke off to work on Frank’s timing in the other room, leaving Mikey, Bob and Gerard to stare blankly at one another.

“So, you and Frank...” Mikey said conversationally.

“Were hanging out.” Gerard finished.

“ _Right._ ” Mikey said.

“I wanted coffee.” Gerard explained, “He wanted to find the showers.”

“I didn’t ask.” Mikey smirked.

Gerard frowned.

“You know, no one cares if you guys wanna like, hang out _alone_ , now.” Mikey said, aiming at reassuring, “Being handcuffed to each other for a week was probably really weird. We get it. You don’t have to like, _hide it_ , if you don’t want to.”    
“‘Hanging out?’” Bob chuckled, “Is that what we’re calling it?”

“It’s not like that.” Gerard deflected, not wanting any part of that conversation.  

“Okay. Well if it _was_ ‘like that…’” Mikey sighed, rolling his eyes as he put air quotes around his words,  “Just know that it’s totally okay if it’s ‘like that.’ We’re all cool with ‘ _that._ ’”

“Yeah.” Bob agreed, disinterestedly playing with his drumsticks, “Whateverthefuck _‘that’_ is...”  

“Well…” Gerard huffed, “Uh. Thanks. I guess?”  
~

 

The rest of the day was spent gearing up for the show. Gerard packed up his makeup, a cape, and some additional last-minute wardrobe options in case he was feeling less ‘vampire’ and more ‘high-security bank robber.’

After soundcheck, he passed the time with makeup and music. He’d put on a white button down shirt, which he then covered with a black band t-shirt to keep from getting red eyeshadow on it while he worked out his look. Earbuds in. He decorated his face with a series of red slices. Deep reddish purple colored the shadow under his eyes. He looked like he’d been in a car accident.

He was applying eyeliner when the rest of the band filed into the dressing room. Ray and Mikey immediately sat down with a deck of cards and started dealing. Frank settled onto a dusty old couch, clutching his guitar. Bob pulled up a chair to join the card game.

“Uh, Frankie, you think you could hook us up with some more chips?” Ray asked.

“What the fuck did you do with all the ones I gave you last night?” Frank asked in disbelief.

“Mikey made that awesome balloon sword, remember?” Bob asked.

“Oh yeah.” Frank grinned, “That _was_ pretty awesome.”

Frank laid back on the couch to reach into his pocket. He flicked out a single condom, whizzing it at Ray’s fro at lightning speed.

“Cherry flavored?” Bob scoffed, pulling the packet from Ray’s hair.

“ _What did I say?_ ” Frank warned.

“Sorry Frank.” Bob said immediately.

Frank kept whizzing packets in the direction of the card table until they had enough to start their game. Condoms littered the floor around them.

Mikey’s nose was buried in his hand of cards.

Gerard had moved on to the other eye, filling in his waterline solid black. He caught Frank’s gaze in his reflection in the mirror. Frank’s fingers flew over his fretboard, silently working out a melody Gerard couldn’t hear across the room without an amp.

“Will you do my makeup?” Frank asked.

“Sure.” Gerard said, “C’mere.”

Frank set his guitar down and crossed the room.

“What do you want?” Gerard asked, finishing off his own eyeliner and setting the charcoal black pencil down.

“Whatever.” Frank shrugged, “You always make me look good… What were you going for?”

“Car crash victim, I guess?” Gerard said.

“Alright. Well make it look like it was my fault.” Frank suggested.

Gerard pulled in a long breath and pushed it back out as he let himself really look at Frank. Frank was looking right back at him, just like he had this morning. Gerard’s heart flipped. He bit his lip, trying to play it off like he was considering makeup options, rather than stunned by the unignorable energy crackling between them. His fingers twitched, reaching blindly for his eye shadow palette. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Frank’s lips.

He worked on autopilot, smudging Frank’s upper lid with a brown shadow so murky it was almost green, making Frank look sort of dirty, or dead. Or both. Like maybe he’d just crawled out of a grave.  
A little paleness would’ve gone a long way, but Frank hated face powders and cover ups. They were too heavy on his skin, and it made him agitated. It had taken Gerard awhile to get used to them himself, at first. He remembered. Frank just hadn’t spent the later half of high school playing with his mom’s makeup. Not like Gerard had.

The charcoal pencil ended up between his fingers again. He rimmed Frank’s eyes carefully, leaning in close to get the lines smooth and even. Frank’s breath was warm and sweet. His eyes were only half open, giving Gerard free reign over his face. It took all of Gerard’s willpower to not drop the eye pencil and lean in further.

It was only then, drawing Xs slashed across Frank’s eyes, that he realized Frank was sitting perfectly still. Gerard preferred the luxury of doing makeup on someone completely stationary, but it was so uncharacteristic of his guitarist. Gerard liked doing Mikey’s makeup for this very reason. The younger Way was the only one who could sit still through the entire process. Frank was normally squirming and yelling obscenities before Gerard had even dipped his eyeshadow brush in the pigment, and here he was, quiet and behaved most of the way through fucking _eyeliner._

Before Gerard could even read into it too much, he found himself painfully aware of the silence in the room. No one was talking. Gerard dared a glance in the mirror to check on the others.

Frank glanced over too, admiring Gerard’s work.  
Ray had been looking over at them, but looked away when Gerard had looked up. Bob and Mikey were focused on the cards in their hands.    
“Will someone put some music on?” Gerard requested.

“Forgot my laptop on the bus.” Bob informed gravely.

“You can talk to each other.” Mikey suggested, “We won’t tell.”

“ _Mikey._ ” Ray hissed, swatting Mikey’s arm.

Mikey just smirked.

~

 

Sometimes getting up on stage and screaming his lungs out was exactly what Gerard needed. When he pressed an ice cold bottle of water to his lips in between songs, he realized that maybe this had been one of those weeks. The kind that only playing an awesome show could fix. Sometimes he really fucking loved his job.

He was all business tonight - completely focused on remembering the words, the queues, the fucking setlist.

So focused, in fact, that he lost himself for half a second when Frank ran right into him during the encore and crushed their lips together. He was kissing back a moment too late, trying to chase Frank’s lips as he pulled away to play the main riff of their last song. He licked his lips, trying to catch the taste of Frank.

Frank spun around Gerard and leaned against Gerard’s back as he played his heart out.

Before Gerard could let himself forget the words, he turned the mic on the audience, letting them scream the words back at him, smiling when they fucking delivered.

  
~

Frank handed off his guitar at the end of their set and disappeared into swarm of sound techs. Gerard hadn’t spent the rest of packing up looking for him. He still hadn’t been looking for him when they’d gone out to meet fans and sign things.

 

Finally back at the hotel, Mikey had already made his way into the shower. Gerard wasn’t about to fight him for it.    
He’d already crashed on one of the beds, and was half-heartedly doodling in his sketchbook. Gerard sort of wondered what the hell Toro & Bryar were doing in his and Mikey’s hotel room, but he’d deduced post-show jitters were to blame. The two were sitting on the edge of the other bed, making plans to go out somewhere after everyone had cleaned up.  
Gerard knew better now. He couldn’t be persuaded to drink a love spell, or walk into magic handcuffs, or anything else equally awful if he didn’t leave his hotel room. The logic was foolproof.  
If the others were aware of Gerard’s sentiment, they didn’t say so. But sooner, rather than later he found himself alone in his hotel room. The others had gone out, leaving him to his sketchbook and his late night television.

The quiet swallowed him as he stepped out of his second shower of the day. He didn’t mind at all. He was so used to being surrounded by his bandmates, or fans, or tour techs, that time alone was precious, and sacred.  
He dressed and crawled back into bed, thinking vaguely of the filth on the tourbus, and his plans to tackle it once they were back on the road.

Gerard startled when he heard the unmistakable beep of the keycard reader, followed by the door clicking open. The tip of his pen zipped across the page as he jolted, leaving a thin slice of ink through his sketch.

He wasn’t sure why he was even surprised when Frank walked into the room with a bag slung over his shoulder, hair still dripping wet with a second shower.  

“Uh. Hey.” Gerard said cautiously.  
Frank dropped his bag. It hit the carpet with a soft thud, anchoring him to the room.  

“Hey.” Frank said back, running a hand through his shower-damp hair, pulling it back out of his face.

“What’s up?” Gerard asked, abandoning his sketch pad and sitting up, readjusting one of the pillows behind him.  

“Am I interrupting?” Frank asked.

“No.” Gerard said too quickly, then edited himself, “I mean… Not really.”

Frank seemed dissatisfied with Gerard’s answer. He made no motion to move closer.  He stood there hesitantly, looking at Gerard.

Gerard bit his lip, waiting Frank out.

“Mikey switched me keycards.” Frank explained, holding up the card he’d used to swipe into the room.

“What about his stuff?” Gerard asked, thinking automatically to the backpack and duffle bag in the chair in the corner. The younger Way could probably go without his toothbrush, but the laptop was a must.

“Well, he said we should be decent when he comes back later.” Frank said, then furrowed his brow, “Not that I came here for- I just wanted to talk actually.”  

 

Frank sat down on the edge of the bed. Gerard swallowed hard. He knew this moment would come eventually, and yet he was entirely unprepared.

“Here’s the thing…” Frank said, pausing to sigh, “I thought about it and…”

He was looking at the carpet, not at Gerard. But then he turned to look at Gerard, and immediately went right back to staring at the carpet. It did nothing to soothe Gerard’s fluttery, worried feeling.   

“I should’ve just told you this morning… I don’t want you to be in love with anyone else, either.” Frank said, “Not if I have to watch. Please, just... don’t? Not for the rest of this tour anyway.”  

“I…” Gerard faltered.

“And then, when tour’s over…” Frank continued, finally looking back at Gerard in earnest, “I think I should come over. So we can see what’s still here, without the weirdness of being on the road.”  
He gestured between the two of them as he said ‘here.’ ‘Here’ was the space between the two of them, and Gerard was suddenly so aware of it.

“Yeah. Okay.” Gerard said.  
Frank was still looking at him.

“Okay.” Gerard said again, more confidently.

“And the next time we go on tour…” Frank added, “You’re mine. When we’re on the road you’re _mine._ ”

Gerard pushed his sketch pad further away, so there was a clear path on the bed between them.  
“Are you…?” Gerard furrowed his brow, “So wait, what am I supposed to do between this tour and the next time we go on tour?”

“Hmmmmmm.” Frank tapped his finger thoughtfully against his lips, “I guess it would just be easier if you were mine then, too?”

Frank smiled brightly at Gerard then. The look was almost mischievous around the edges.

“I guess that’s all I wanted to talk about…” Frank said.

Frank reached for the TV remote and started flipping through channels. He laid back on the bed and sprawled himself more comfortably, facing away from Gerard.

“Wait. What am I supposed to do now?” Gerard asked, furrowing his brow at the back of Frank’s head.  

“Go back to drawing.” Frank said easily, not pulling his gaze away from the TV, “MTV might actually be playing music videos at this hour…”

“Well, I kind of… don’t wanna draw anymore.” Gerard said.

Frank turned then, giving Gerard a curious look. He was so beautiful, laid out across the bed in front of Gerard, all dark circles and damp hair.

“Like, at all.” Gerard added.

“What do you wanna do then?” Frank asked, face open and curious.

Remnants of the makeup Gerard had put on him earlier still ringed Frank’s eyes, making the punk look moody and darker than ever.

“Um. Well…” Gerard faltered.

The corner of Frank’s mouth twitched as he fought an almost-smirk.

Gerard leaned forward, over Frank, and pressed his lips to Frank’s. Frank smiled into the kiss.

“Gee…” Frank breathed.

Their fingers tangled together immediately. Frank pulled Gerard’s hands up over his head, coaxing Gerard to pin his wrists to the bedspread. Gerard locked his fingers around Frank’s wrists, feeling Frank weakly push back as they kissed.

Gerard shifted his weight, trying to lean over Frank in a way that wouldn’t make his leg fall asleep, and accidentally fumbled closer, pressing himself into Frank. The guitarist seemed to welcome to rush of pressure. He kissed Gerard harder, parting his lips and letting out a warm gasp.

Gerard let Frank push him onto his back and slide on top of him. Cuffs or no cuffs, he obviously liked to be on top. Gerard was absolutely transfixed.

“Thought you said you wanted to go slow.” Gerard managed to verbalize before Frank swooped down and pressed their lips together again.

“Yeah. Fucking. Slow.” Frank echoed between kisses.

“Fucking…” Gerard repeated breathily.

“We can do this slow, Gee.” Frank leered.

Gerard blinked as Frank straightened out his back and tugged his t-shirt off. His eyes flitted to the lines of ink wrapped around Frank’s chest and ribs and hips. He’d seen Frank’s tattoos before, but he’d never had Frank up close like this for any length of time. Another day they could take this slow, and Gerard could really touch all of them, but the look on Frank’s face said he wasn’t fucking around.

Gerard let his guitarist’s hands wander up the front of his t-shirt, unable to do much other than try to match the pace of Frank’s frantic kissing. They’d done this before, and yet Gerard was still lost on Frank’s energy.

Gerard slid a hand in Frank’s back pocket to cup his ass and urge him closer. Frank’s hand followed after Gerard’s, sliding in deeper into his pocket. The wrapper formed seemingly out of thin air, in between Frank’s fingers. He fumbled the condom into Gerard’s hand.

“Hate to be a buzzkill but I totally don’t have lube.” Frank mumbled against Gerard’s lips.

And the thing was, Gerard didn’t have any either. He hadn’t exactly anticipated this.

Frank pulled away enough to hit the pause button. They searched each others eyes. Gerard could see the wheels turning behind Frank’s eyes as he considered alternatives. Gerard didn’t have anything else they could use in his makeup kit or travel bag. There wasn’t even anything back on the bus that would work.

There had to be somewhere open nearby. There _had_ to be.

Gerard tried to sit up and Frank pushed him right back down.

“Don’t you dare fucking leave.” Frank warned, staring right into his fucking soul with burning eyes.  

“I-...” Gerard faltered, “Okay, but-”

“Who knows when they fuck I’ll have you alone like this again.” Frank observed, sliding down Gerard’s body. He slid a hand over the front of Gerard’s jeans, making his dick throb. Gerard watched Frank’s tattooed fingers make quick work of his button and fly.

Gerard bit his lip as Frank tried to tug down the front of his jeans. He tried to lift his hips off the bed enough to help Frank get them down a few inches.

Frank glanced up at Gerard as he sunk his mouth around Gerard’s dick. His cheeks hollowed as his mouth relaxed around Gerard. Gerard couldn’t fucking look anymore. He let his eyes fall closed as he felt Frank’s tongue swirling around him. Frank slid a hand up over his belly to keep him down on the bed. The other hand he wrapped around the base of Gerard’s dick. His good hand was, well, _good._ Fucking great, actually. Gerard found himself gasping up at the ceiling, begging Frank to keep doing it.

He relished in the warmth of Frank’s mouth, and in the palm of his hand. It was so strange to be so alone, to be able to do whatever the hell they wanted. They were the only two people with a key to the room, and no one to answer to for hours.

Gerard grasped weakly at Frank’s shoulder, trying to indicate he wanted Frank to come back up. Frank seemed to get it, because he pulled off and glanced up at Gerard with eyes full of curiosity and intent. Gerard tried to sit up and tug his own shirt off with his dick twitching at the absence of warmth. And then he dragged Frank up to the head of the bed, because it would be awhile until they could do this in an actual bed again. He wanted to be naked and under the covers.

Frank jumped in as soon as Gerard peeled the covers back. He pulled Gerard in with him and stretched the comforter high over their heads, shrouding them in darkness. It was easier to really crash into each other in the dark. Gerard worked Frank’s jeans open as Frank got a hand around his dick again. They kissed roughly, already too warm and searching desperately for relief.

“ _Gee._ ” Frank breathed as Gerard started jacking him off. Frank rolled on top of Gerard, and his movement pulled the covers up on one side. The brief gust of fresh air made Gerard realize he was already sweating.

Frank’s dick slid against Gerard’s and he grabbed them both to work them together. Gerard could do little but gasp into Frank’s mouth as they kissed heatedly. Despite their prior conversations there was really nothing slow about this. Gerard tried to slide his jeans down further, but it was impossible with Frank on top of him. Instead he worked on getting Frank naked.

Frank seemed to catch on to Frank’s urgency, because he stopped to help. There was no graceful way to do it. He climbed off Gerard and shucked his jeans the rest of the way off. Gerard took the five free seconds to get his own jeans down to his knees, and then Frank helped him get them the rest of the way off.

Once they were naked, Gerard pushed Frank down on his back and kissed his way down, below the sparrows on Frank’s hips. He licked a stripe up the underside of Frank’s cock, delighting in the moan he received from Frank in return. He took Frank’s dick into his mouth easily, savoring in the way Frank’s body responded. Frank’s hands fisted in his hair, urging him to move quicker. There was nothing slow about it at all.

Gerard pulled off to suck on his fingers for a moment, earning an eager objection from Frank. His hips twitched up, begging for the return of friction. Gerard mouthed at the head of Frank’s cock and slid his wet fingers over Frank’s ass - a preview for next time. The breathy gasp he got in return told him he was on the right track. Frank was coming the fuck apart.

The spit was _so_ not enough. It wore away quickly, leaving Gerard to just gently massage Frank’s ass. His body throbbed against the gentle intrusion of Gerard’s fingers. Frank was chanting quite, desperate little ‘fuck’s, making Gerard’s dick throb against the sheets.

Frank tried to pull away in time to come, but Gerard kept him still, swallowing it all down like it was nothing.  
Frank was still on fire when he was done. He shimmied down deeper under the covers, fumbling around for Gerard’s dick in the tangle of sheets. He kissed Gerard hungrily as he jacked him off. Their bodies slid against one another, sweat slick and hot. Gerard came all over Frank’s hand in no time.

They laid under the covers, gasping and kissing and rolling over each other. It was like Frank couldn’t stop moving. Gerard found himself winding down, paralyzed by the overwhelming sensation of relief.  

Eventually Gerard pulled the covers back to come up for air. The air in the room was cool against his face. Frank was still lazily sucking on his neck, still spasming and convulsing with overstimulation and energy.

Gerard felt like he should say something, but he didn’t have any words. He couldn’t explain the weird, sad feeling that washed over him as Frank started to settle. He stared up at the ceiling, trying to find words to go with the feeling.

Frank seemed to pick up on it, because he propped himself up on his elbow and gazed down at Gerard with a worried look.

“What’s wrong, dare I ask?” Frank asked gently, “You’re not gonna tell me that sucked, are you?”

“No.” Gerard said immediately, locking eyes with Frank, “It’s not that.”

“Good, because I really wanna do that again.” Frank said.

“Me too.” Gerard nodded, but his tone of voice wasn’t convincing, even to himself.

“Gee…” Frank sighed.

“It’s just… I don’t want us to stop being friends.” Gerard said, as the realization hit him, “You’re kind of my best fucking friend, Frank. I feel like I’ve lost you already.”

Frank let out a breath of a laugh and then pursed his lips.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh.” Frank amended, “You just… you know how ridiculous that is, right?”

“Is it ridiculous?” Gerard asked worriedly.

“Did you think we were just going to stop being friends because of this?” Frank asked tenderly.  

“No.” Gerard said, “Well, yeah. I don’t know. I don’t want to lose you. Ever.”

“We still get to do everything we did before, but we get to do this, too.” Frank said and pecked Gerard on the lips.

Gerard bit his lip as he looked at Frank, still not convinced.

“What if we fuck this up?” Gerard asked.

“We won’t.” Frank said matter-of-factly, a little too quickly, “Or, if we do. I’ll still be your friend. I’ll always be your friend, Gee.”

“Okay, good.” Gerard said, feeling a little less weird. He’d pinpointed the emotions as fear and uncertainty.

“I think it’s a little too late to turn back now anyways.” Frank scoffed, “So there’s nothing we can do now but try our best.”

Gerard nodded.

“I don’t think I could ever stop being your friend.” Frank added reverently.

“Me neither.” Gerard said, “That’s why I was worried. But I guess that’s why the wizard got us together...”

“I refuse to let him take credit for anything that just went down.” Frank said tonelessly, “Or anything that goes down from here on out.”

Gerard nodded again.

“I could’ve done without the handcuffs and the love spell.” Frank added, “But you know, I’m kinda okay with the way this worked out.”

“Me too.” Gerard said.

“But, you know, I’ll kill you if you ever tell him I said that.” Frank asserted.

“He probably already knows?” Gerard shrugged.

“I don’t want to think about it.” Frank said.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: This work was originally going to be titled after a Brand New lyric, but fuck Jesse Lacey. : )


End file.
